


Can I Have a Ride?

by amasianfish



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Smut, and f/m smut, poorly written smut but smut nonetheless, warning there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3382877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amasianfish/pseuds/amasianfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU. Shaw needs a ride to school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Ask

"Just ask the girl who lives across from us," John said brusquely.

"What, Root? Or whatever the fuck she calls herself?" Shaw replied. "No fucking way."

John sighed. "Would you rather take the bus to school your junior year?"

Shaw knew that wasn't an option. One, that stupid fat kid Lionel would definitely be on the same route as her, and she could not deal with his blabbering mouth for fifteen minutes in the morning before she even had coffee. Two, she was about to be a junior. No way she'd be sitting on a disgusting bus while her best friend, Carter, drove to school in her new car. Plus, she had a rep to maintain. One she had carefully constructed the past two years. No one bothered Shaw, in fear of receiving her death stare, but pulling up to school in a yellow school bus would not help with keeping her no-nonsense status. Of course, she knew she could kill anyone who looked at her the wrong way, but they weren't supposed to know that.

John looked at her slightly sympathetically. "Look, Shaw. I drove you your first two years, but I leave in a week. I won't be here to haul your sorry ass to school. Find a ride, or take the bus. You know Finch can't drive you."

He waited for a response, but received silence instead. "We all know you hate asking for help, but suck it up."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Let's shoot some things."

John tossed her a gun and said, "Get some of your anger out, Shaw. We don't need you shooting the poor girl in frustration." He picked up a gun, too, and they both put on their headphones and started shooting at the targets. Every now and then Shaw glanced at his marks, and groaned in annoyance when she saw that his target, riddled with bullet holes, was more accurately hit than hers. John caught her looking and smirked. "You know, I  _am_ two years older than you."

Shaw flipped him off. "Let's go again."

After five more rounds, the two decided it was time to go home. Flashing their fake IDs at the staff at the gun range, they left the building and walked towards John's car.

"You know, for someone who likes following the law, Finch has a weird way of showing it," Shaw said. "He tells us to stay under the radar, and then makes us fake IDs so we can shoot shit and learn how to become ninjas."

John shrugged as he pulled out of the lot. "He has his reasons."

"Yeah, yeah. 'All for the cause, Miss Shaw,'" Shaw mocked him. "I like guns and combat training as much as the next person, but I dunno, John. Finch wants us to train, but for what?"

John smirked. "You'll find out when you graduate."

Shaw glared at him. Fuck that. She made a mental note to place a bug in his bag before he leaves.

The rest of the ride home was in silence as Shaw thought. What on earth was Finch doing with his ragtag duo? She knew John was in some bad shit before Finch found him and took him in five years ago, but she didn't know what compelled Finch to a) take him in, or b) John to stay. Hell, Shaw didn't know why  _she_ stayed. Besides the roof over her head, the meals, the guns... Never mind. Maybe she shouldn't care what weird shit Finch was into.

Their car pulled into the driveway and Shaw got out. There was still the issue of a ride.

John glanced at her. "Just ask, Sam."

Shaw stared at the olive green house across the street. She mentally ran through everything she knew about Samantha "Root" Groves. Senior. Tallish. Liked computers? Weird.

"You know you have to go there to talk to her, right?"

Rolling her eyes, Shaw hit him on the shoulder and strode past him, across the street. "Fuck, Carter," she muttered. "Why can't you live near me?"

Steeling herself, she went up the front steps to "Root"'s house. Muttering to herself again, she knocked on the door three times in quick succession. It was silent for a few moments, and then Shaw heard movement inside. The door opened, and a woman, presumably Mrs. Groves, slowly looked Shaw up and down. Shaw could smell the alcohol on her breath as the woman yelled into the house, "Samantha! There's a girl here."

Shaw spoke quickly, "I'm Sam Shaw, I live across from you."

The woman kept staring at Shaw, an indescribable look upon her face. "Yeah, you're one of Harold's strays, right?"

Shaw frowned but nodded. It was true, yeah, but she didn't like the phrasing or the tone that went with it.

"Well, I'm Vivian Groves," the woman said, sticking out her hand. Shaw took it and shook it, but Vivian kept holding her hand. "What grade are you in, Sam?" 

Shaw desperately wanted to shake off her grip, but didn't know if that would be rude. "Um, I'm a junior. About to be, anyway. I'm a year below your daughter's grade; I wanted to talk to her actually?"

Vivian's face changed into something uglier. "Of course.  _Samantha!_ "

Light footsteps were heard, and Samantha Groves appeared. She looked at the awkward handhold still occurring and said hesitantly, "You're Sameen?"

Shaw nodded and roughly got out of Vivian's grip. "Uh, Shaw, yeah. Could we talk for a sec?"

Samantha glanced at her mother and stepped out of the house to join Shaw. "Sure, follow me."

"It was lovely meeting you," Vivian called out to Shaw. "Hope to see you again."

Shaw smiled uncomfortably and followed Samantha to her backyard. They stood there awkwardly for a few moments until Shaw remembered why she came to this odd house in the first place. 

"Okay, so this may be weird, but I was wondering if you wanted to carpool when school starts in a few days?"

Samantha stared at her. "Why? I thought your brother drove you."

Shaw frowned. "How'd you know that?"

Samantha shrugged. "I do live across from you."

"Right. Well, yeah, my foster brother drove me but he's leaving now that he's graduated, so... And I know you're a senior and have your license and everything. And you can drive me legally. Not that I care about that. But Finch does, so that was important with me getting a ride. So yeah." Shaw realized she was rambling and shut up.

Samantha half-smiled. "Yeah, sure, Sameen. I'll drive you."

That was easier than expected. "Oh, okay. Thanks. And I like to be called Shaw, if you didn't know."

"As long as you call me Root."

Shaw scoffed. "What kind of a name is that?"

"It's a computer thing."

Shaw could tell there was more to be said, but she rushed to speak before she heard any tech babble. "Ah. Yeah, you're one of those computer nerds right? AP Computer Science and like Programming and shit, right?"

Root raised her eyebrows. "I'm a nerd? That's no way to talk to the person giving you a ride out of the kindness of her heart."

"I'm just not wired for that type of stuff," Shaw replied, no hint of remorse in her tone over her comment.

"What is it you're 'wired for'?" Root asked teasingly. 

The first thing that came to Shaw's mind was violence. "Uh, you know. Sports."

Root full out laughed. "Oh, are you on a team? Do you have lots of school spirit?"

"Fuck off," Shaw muttered. "I've got plenty of _spirit_."

"I bet," Root murmured, a trace of a grin appearing.

Shaw sensed the change in atmosphere, and hurried to dispel it. "So, uh, should I just walk over here at like 7 every morning?"

"I'll be ready for you."

Shaw nodded, and backed up a little. "Okay, I'll see you then. Um, thanks."

Root smiled, "It's nothing. Here." She grabbed Shaw's hand, the same one Vivian held, and wrote down a number. Shaw watched the pen slide across her skin, and glanced at Root when she was finished. Root continued to hold her hand, and Shaw wondered if this was a Groves thing. "You can let go now," she said. Root chuckled and let her hand drop. She gave Shaw a little wave and then retreated back to her house, shutting the door behind her.

Shaw watched her leave, and then went back to her own house.

"Successful?" John asked as she passed by. She grunted in response and went to her room, grabbing her phone off the bedside table. She tapped in Root's number, and then placed it back on the table. Shaw rubbed her fingers over the ink, still feeling each woman's hold. Vivian's was rough and invaded her space. Root's was gentle and Shaw felt as if Root was still staring at her. She shuddered and went to the bathroom, hoping to wash off any trace of that _feeling_ she couldn't quite place. School wouldn't start for three days. She had time to get back to normal. After all, this was just a weird girl with strangely soft hands. It would be fine.


	2. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback! I haven't written fics in a few years but Person of Interest pulled me back in. I have a bunch of random ideas for this story and I hope it turns out well :)

"John,  _please_ ," Shaw whined, tugging on her (foster) brother's arm. "I need you to do this for me."

John shook off her arm, and continued furiously pressing keys on his controller. His avatar was surrounded on all sides, and John  _needed_ to win this match or he'd never hear the end of it. 

"John! Get your head out of your ass and do this favor for me!"

He groaned and ordered his avatar to set off the grenade he held, blowing everyone, including himself, to bits. "Shaw. No."

"Just because you lost your stupid game you won't buy for me?"

"I don't get why you can't go buy some alcohol yourself if it's so important," John said, frustrated. His suicide had successfully killed the other players, but it didn't help his score.

Shaw rolled her eyes. "You love this tradition! You gotta help me keep it. Besides, I'm sixteen, and while Finch pays the people at the range to turn a blind eye to my ID, he sure as hell won't pay the people at the liquor store."

John shrugged. "Sorry, Sam. You're on your own."

"Fucking dick," Shaw muttered, and brushed past him, heading upstairs from the basement. She took out her phone from her pocket, and saw she had a text from Carter.

Carter: _I CANNOT WAIT FOR THE ANNUAL FINCH PARTY!!! LETS GET FUCKED UP_

Shaw chuckled to herself, then remembered her predicament. Dialing Carter's number, she entered her room and flopped on the bed.

"Shaw! Are you getting ready for tonight?" Carter's excited voice crackled through the line.

"Trying, but John won't buy for us."

Carter paused and Shaw knew she was thinking through every possible option. "Can't you just do it? You have a fake. People will bring some stuff, too."

"I do, but I don't fucking look twenty-one. I don't have a ride to the store, either."

"You know I would if I could, but you know my dad. Can't get caught."

Shaw mumbled in acknowledgement. Carter's dad was a cop, and if he found out Carter had been buying alcohol or driving with it, the consequences would be somewhat terrifying. 

"Still, though. You've got to do it, Shaw. This party is legendary at school; you can't just skip it this year. Besides, everyone's already getting ready. I heard Tomas is coming, too," Carter teased. 

"Is that supposed to entice me?" 

"You said yourself he's hot. Go for it. He'd be into it, too. You're hotter than him."

"Thanks, Carter. Try and conceal your raging desire for me, please."

"Never. See you later, bitch," Carter sang, and hung up the phone.

_Ugh_ , Shaw thought.  _Who would drive me?_ Shaw's eyes immediately went to the house across the street. _Would Root?_

"Finch, I'm going out!" Shaw called out. She heard his distant reply from the library inside the house (he really likes his books) and grabbed the big wad of cash pooled together by most of the junior class.

_Am I really doing this?_ Shaw asked herself, walking across the street.  _Yep. I am._

Shaw knocked on the door three times and waited, hoping desperately that Vivian wasn't home. Luck was in the air, because the door opened to reveal Root, dressed casually in a purple top, a leather jacket, and jeans.

"Shaw!" Root said in surprise. "Who knew you'd be back so soon?"

"Would you drive me to the center of town and back? I need to pick up some things."

"Am I your personal chauffeur now, Sameen?" Root asked pleasantly.

Shaw glared at her. " _Shaw._  Tonight's the Finch party, and I need to get some alcohol and John's being a pissbaby and won't bring me or pick it up for me."

Root leaned against the doorway. She frowned for a moment, and then recognition dawned on her. "The one Kara Stanton started when she was a freshman."

"Yeah, she's my foster sister. Never met her, though. She started it, and then when Finch took in John, he continued the tradition. And now that he's leaving, I have to." Shaw didn't know why she was explaining this to Root, but shook it off. "Anyway, will you drive me?"

"Depends," Root said. "Am I invited?"

Shaw's head whipped up. "If you want to come. Was I supposed to ask you?"

Root laughed. "Typically, if you ask someone for a ride so you can buy alcohol for a party that's across the street from them, yes."

Shaw looked at the ground. "Oh. Well, yeah. If you want."

Root examined her for a few moments and then said, "Let's go, then. Wait here."

Root retreated back into the house and shut the door, and after a minute the garage door opened. A shiny BMW rolled out of the garage, and Shaw stared at it in wonder. 

"Like what you see?" Root's voice carried through the window. 

Shaw scrambled to the passenger seat, and then forced herself to seem nonchalant. "It's okay."

Root nodded, clearly not believing her, and started driving to the center of town. "So tell me about this so-called legendary party tradition."

"Well, Finch took in Kara when she was like twelve, and she always had a rebel type streak-"

"-like you."

"I guess. She threw a party two nights before school her freshman year, since that's when Finch goes on his weird long business trip, and it was fucking insane. The cops came, but she somehow talked her way out of it," Shaw said, not mentioning the fact that Kara subtly threatened the police with a 9 mm, and then paid them off to ignore the party subsequent years. "The house was like flooded with alcohol, it stank of weed for days afterward. It was all everyone talked about at school. Her senior year, Finch found John, who was gonna be a freshman. John begged Kara to help him pull off the best party yet, since he wanted to impress Zoe Morgan." Shaw smirked. He tripped over his shoes every time Zoe passed by, according to Finch, and that still hadn't changed. John was eighteen now, and blushed like crazy whenever he saw her.

"Zoe Morgan, huh?" Root interrupted. "I thought they'd been fucking."

Shaw snorted. "They have been. It's kinda gross. But he still gets all swoony when she's near. And now they're leaving." Shaw's tone softened and she trailed off. 

There was a silence as Root drove, hesitant to speak.

"Anyway, John threw an even crazier party than Kara's freshman one, and he had a pretty good one last year, too. This year is my first one alone, since John's not helping, so it has to be amazing."

Root's car pulled into the lot, and they both got out and entered the liquor store. Shaw took a cart and piled it with all kinds of booze, but the cheap kind. Teenagers will drink anything. She selected a nice bottle of scotch for herself, actual quality stuff, and continued looking. Root just watched her, her eyes following all of Shaw's movements, cataloguing them. 

Eventually, Shaw was finished and placed all the bottles on the conveyor belt, an assortment of vodka, beer, rum, tequila, fireball whiskey, and her scotch. The cashier, with the nametag Ronald, looked at her ID and smirked. "Sameen Shaw? You're twenty-one?"

Shaw stared at him defiantly. "Yes, _Ronald._ " She knew she looked nineteen at the oldest, when she looked angry. She certainly looked furious then, horrified that he would even question her.

He didn't back down. "You don't mind if I check, then?" 

Shaw pretended not to care. "Go ahead."

"Are you Ronald Carmichael?" Root asked behind Shaw. "The psychiatrist from the town over?" 

Carmichael paused and replied tersely, "Yes. What's it to you?"

"Why are you working as a clerk in a liquor store if you have a nice degree? Is work not going so well for you?" Root said sweetly.

"That's none of your business."

"Of course not," Root drawled. "But I'd hate it if you lost your few remaining clients, the few who haven't heard about some of the things you do in your spare time. Let me think, those online chat rooms where you discuss rather vulgar depictions of those very clients? Or maybe that you go to the ATM across your office and-"

Carmichael was fuming but had an air of fear around him. "-Here's your total."

Shaw stared at Root in disbelief but handed over some bills to Carmichael. She gathered up her booze and followed Root to the car, still in a slight daze. "How did you..."

"Oh please, Sameen. There is so much information on the Internet these days; it wasn't hard to gather some intel on our fellow neighbors."

_What the fuck,_ Shaw thought to herself. _What does this crazy girl know about me?_

The drive back home was quiet as the two girls kept to themselves. Root had a knowing grin plastered on her face, while Shaw's suspicion grew. The moment they made it in the driveway, Shaw had propelled herself out of the car and was saying goodbye. 

"Um, thanks for the lift. See you later, if you come." She then hurried back home, shoving the bags in her room and stormed into the basement, where John was still fucking around on his PS3. 

"John, Root is fucking insane! I mean, I knew she was weird, but like this is too weird."

John paused his game and looked at her. "What are you talking about?"

Shaw relayed the details of the shopping trip. "And like, she knew all this weird shit about him that no one else would know. I don't like it."

"Maybe she's a spy, Shaw. Secretly works for the KGB."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "You don't understand. It was unsettling."

"You're talking to a guy who was taken in by a reclusive billionaire and can kill a man sixteen different ways with a toothpick. And who now has a bratty younger sister. If you're so concerned, put _your_ spy skills to the test. Find out what she knows about you before she can use it against you. Or us."

Shaw acknowledged this. "You're right. Ugh, why can't Carter live around us? I don't want to be in a car with her every day for the school year." She muttered a few curses under her breath.

"Anyway, Harold left. So you can start setting up."

Shaw nodded her thanks at John and went back upstairs, beginning to set up what would be the best party in her high school's history. She needed to focus. She pushed Root out of her mind, and called Carter to come over and help.

* * *

 

Tom Ford by Jay Z blasted through the speakers as Shaw walked unsteadily around her house, holding onto Carter for support. _I'm not that drunk_ , Shaw thought to herself as she walked into a chair. Okay, maybe doing three chugging competitions in a row with John and Carter was a bad idea, and then drinking two thirds a bottle of vodka, but she liked this feeling. It had been too long.

"This is the best Finch party ever!" Carter screamed in Shaw's ear. She had drank less than Shaw, but her tolerance was lower. Not that that was unusual. Shaw could hold her liquor really well for a sixteen-year-old, but it had been a while. She staggered over to the smoking circle and snatched a blunt out of Lionel's hand.

"Hey, Short Stack! That was mine!"

"And this is mine now! It's my fucking house, Lionel! Fuck off! Who even invited you?"

"You did!" Lionel said indignantly.

"My mistake!" Shaw yelled over her shoulder as she took a few long hits. As people passed her, they clapped her on the back and congratulated her on throwing such a good party.

_Damn right,_ Shaw thought, taking another hit. A thought struck her, and she took her phone out of her pocket.

To Root: _wher er u rooty pattotie ur missignn the fu !!!!!_

She felt her phone vibrate almost immediately and opened it excitedly.

Root: _Who is this?_

_Fuck it, I'll go over there and bring her here! How dare she forget me!_

Shaw thrust open the front door and ran smack into Tomas. "Whoa there Shaw! Where are you going?"

"I'm a woman on a mission, Tomas," Shaw declared. "Come with me."

Tomas grinned. "Okay."

The two walked to Root's house, Tomas supporting her. Shaw rang the doorbell a few times, and then knocked to the tune of Yankee Doodle. "Yankee Rootle went to town a riding on a-- Hi Root!"

Root stood in the doorway, smirking at Shaw. "Hello, Sameen. I'm guessing it was your text I had the pleasure of receiving?" She then saw Tomas and her smile faded. "Tomas."

He looked at her in confusion. "Shaw, this is who you wanted to see?"

"Yeah! She's a spy," Shaw said confidentially. "A _Russian_ spy."

"All right, Sam. Maybe you should go home," Root said, amused. 

"But you said you'd come!" Shaw whined.

"C'mon, Shaw," Tomas said. "We can go have fun together."

Root's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly and then she nodded. "Go, before you regret anything else." She leaned forward and whispered something in Tomas's ear. He visibly recoiled and tugged on Shaw's arm. "Let's go. I'll walk you home."

"Okay, I guess..." Shaw said sadly. Root smiled softly and leaned her face in close to Shaw's, and Shaw waited in anticipation. Root apparently thought better of it and moved back. "See you when school starts."

"See ya," Shaw slurred, and made her way back to her house, Tomas following. Root watched them leave with a faint smile on her face, and shut the door to her house.

When Shaw entered her house, all her classmates yelled and swept her into a game of slap cup. Her reflexes, even dulled by copious amounts of alcohol, were far superior than anyone else's (except perhaps John) and she quickly forgot about her encounter with Root.

 


	3. Regrets

Shaw awoke to harsh sunlight piercing her eyelids. She groped for a pillow, and instead she found an arm. Bolting upright, she took in her surroundings. On her right, the owner of the arm she gripped tightly snored quietly. On her left, there was another body, but a conscious and half naked one. 

"Please tell me I wasn't involved in a weird ass threesome last night," Shaw said. "I don't know if I can deal with that."

Tomas smiled. "As much fun as that sounds, don't worry. We only slept."

Shaw glanced at Carter's unconscious form. "Looks like we had fun."

"Trust me," Tomas said, sitting up and pulling on his shirt. "This party will be anything anyone is gonna be talking about for a long time."

Shaw grinned to herself. Mission accomplished. 

"I'll go make you some breakfast. There should be some leftover food around here-"

Shaw cut him off. "Don't bother. I'm not one for morning afters. Even if we didn't do anything." She paused. "Why is that, by the way?"

Tomas shot her a puzzled look. "You don't remember?"

Shaw racked her brain. Beer, beer, beer, vodka, smoking, more beer... At least Tomas had manners.

"Let's just say a friend of yours threatened some of my vital organs if I touched you in your condition," Tomas replied. "Not that I would've. Anyway, I'll see you at school tomorrow, Shaw. Maybe we'll have a class together." He winked and left her room.

Shaw rolled her eyes, but still felt intrigued by the prospect. Not many guys would've simply tucked her into bed. In fact, not many guys would have been able to tuck her into bed. What the fuck happened last night? She hadn't drank  _that_ much, had she?

Turning Carter onto her side just in case, Shaw got up and stripped down. She slipped into the shower, washing off the dried beer and whatever other drinks splashed onto her last night. Her head ached a little bit, but it had suffered worse. Smiling to herself, Shaw tried to recollect more of the night. Everyone had a good time, that much she was sure of. John was gonna be proud. 

Shaw finished up and dressed in a sports bra, tank top, and shorts. Drying her hair a little with her towel, she considered waking Carter up, then decided against it. She could use some rest before school started. Carter took all APs and honors classes, and God knows she could get hard on herself. These last moments of peace before the year began would be sacred.

Going down the stairs, she found John sitting at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee. "You look worse than usual, John."

He flipped her the bird and continued taking small sips. "Gotta say it, Sam. You've outdone yourself."

"The more important question is if I've outdone  _you_. And it's safe to say I have."

John shrugged. "Whatever you say."

Shaw got a glass of water and gulped down a couple aspirin. "Who's still here?"

John motioned towards the living room. "Lionel, Leon, Laskey."

Shaw groaned. "Oh god, you mean the worst people ever." She reached under the sink and pulled out a hammer, retreating into the living room. John waited a few moments, and then watched the three boys scurry out of the room in various states of undress. He nodded as they passed him. "See you when you get back from college, Wonderboy," Fusco called out to him. John gave a mock salute in return.

Shaw came out of the living room seconds later, and returned the hammer to its place. "Persuasion can get you anywhere." She frowned. "Speaking of, where's Zoe? Did she show up last night?"

John shook his head. "No, she had to pack. Classes at Columbia start tomorrow. She leaves for New York City in an hour."

"Sorry, John. I'm... gonna miss her, too." 

John gave a noncommittal grunt. "I saw Tomas leave. He was pretty latched onto you last night. Some kind of watchdog."

"Look who's talking, Mr. I-love-Harold. But yeah, I don't know why. We didn't even do anything."

John spread his hands out in front of him and stood up. "Nope, don't want to know. I'm gonna go pack, too."

"You idiot, go see her. Right now. Don't play that aloof shit."

John tried to hide his grin. "Okay, _Mom._ " He grabbed his car keys and practically flew out the door.

Shaw shook her head. "Boys. Such dumbasses."

She heard steps clunking down the stairs and greeted Carter. "How you feeling, sunshine?"

Carter glared at her. "Like a truck just T-boned me. What do you think? Give me some Advil."

"You ask so nicely; how could I say no?" Shaw tossed the bottle of aspirin at Carter, who tried her best to catch it but ended up getting hit in the shoulder. She flipped Shaw off, grumbling about "too much beer" and "I hope I didn't kiss Fusco last night".

"Trust me, I'd remember that," Shaw said. "Not that I seem to remember much of anything. Where's my phone?"

Carter shrugged and swallowed some pills dry. "Maybe in your room."

Shaw headed back upstairs, calling over her shoulder, "Don't you dare leave without helping me clean up, Joss."

"I couldn't move if I wanted to," Shaw heard. She smiled to herself and searched in her room for her cell. She shook out the comforters, rearranged a few things on her desk, and even searched in her gun drawer. She noticed the lock was broken, and rechecked to make sure everything was there.  _I probably broke it myself last night._ She finally found it under her pillow. Dead, of course. Plugging it in, she straightened out her room and made a mental note to replace the lock to the gun drawer. Shaw called down to Carter to come and help her clean the house.

Together, the two girls worked through every room in the house besides the library. Finch's padlock and gate ensured no one would be able to get in. They found uncountable beer bottles, spills, food, and there was a sticky spot on the dining room table that neither of them wanted to know the origins of. "What a fucking mess," Shaw muttered. But it was worth it. 

After two hours, the girls were finally finished. "I'm gonna go, Sam. This was great, something we all needed. I'll text you later." With that, Carter trudged out the front door and Shaw listened to the sound of her car driving away. She collapsed into an armchair and popped open a bottle of beer.  _Take that, Kara Stanton._

* * *

 

Later that day, Shaw went to the basement and beat the punching bag several times, feeling the need to burn off the calories of all the alcohol she consumed. She hit the bag a few more times, and wiped her brow. For some reason, she felt like she was missing something. Normally, her blackouts didn't bother her too much (as long as there were no injuries on her person the next day), but this one felt different. Something had happened, something out of the ordinary. Maybe it was just the party. She felt restless. She went upstairs and grabbed her phone, now fully charged. Reclining on her bed, she scrolled through her unopened texts. 

_AWESOME PARTY SHAW_

_U REALLY DID IT THIS TIME_

_have you seen my sweatshirt?_

_can't wait for next year!!!!_

_shaw ur the man_

_don't expect me for a while... zoe somehow got held up and will be leaving later tonight_

Shaw rolled her eyes at that one. John attempting to be subtle was painful.

She scrolled through her conversations, and one caught her eye. 

To Root: _wher er u rooty pattotie ur missignn the fu !!!!!_

Root: _Who is this?_

Shaw's breathing stopped. _Oh my god._  

It got worse.

To Root: _your face is SOOOO_ _prety ur like angel_

To Root: _y didnt u com hng out w me_

To Root: _i lked it when uf ace wah neer ine_

Root: _Goodnight, Sameen._

Rooty patootie. Angel. Whatever that last one meant. Good God. Shaw reached for her M9 and held the barrel against her head. She sighed and set it back down again. Root was  _not_ worth it. But why the fuck would Shaw send this shit to her? Her short interaction with Root came back to her. She silently thanked Tomas for getting her out of there. What on earth was going on? Shaw has talked to this girl, what, twice? And somehow she was the one Shaw drunk-texted? And complimented? Shaw doesn't do compliments, unless it benefits her. 

Shaw went to type a message, but hesitated.  _What would I even say in this situation?_

To Root:  _I'll knock on your door tomorrow at 7. Don't be late._

Shaw waited for a reply. It didn't come. Frustrated, she threw the phone on the bed and started her last minute AP Chemistry work she should have done in the beginning of the summer. She pretended not to be glancing over at her phone every other minute.  _Fucking Root._

An hour and 26 checks later, Shaw heard John enter the house. She half-jogged downstairs, if only for a distraction. The dazed grin on John's face confirmed Shaw's suspicions of what he had been doing the past few hours. "You're gross. Did you tell her bye for me?"

"Yep," John smirked. "I told her bye from me, too. Repeatedly."

Shaw retched and went to the fridge for some leftover pasta. "Go shower so I don't have to worry about accidentally touching you and regretting it forever."

John only smiled his satisfied smile and went to his room, calling out behind him, "Only four more days of me, Shaw. Then you'll miss me."

Shaw rolled her eyes and forked the pasta into her mouth, chewing aggressively. After finishing the container and a leftover burger, she stomped back upstairs and forced herself to slowly pick up her phone and check for a message. 

Root:  _I love it when you take charge._ _  
_

Fucking Root.

 

 


	4. Day 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments and nice things!! I hope you like this chapter (pardon if there are mistakes; I'm still pretty emotional about the brittana wedding)

Shaw's alarm went off at 5:30 am. She jolted awake and hit the off button, cursing the school board in her mind. Whoever came up with the idea of sending teenagers to school at 7:30 was on her kill list. Or torture list, she didn't particularly care which. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and got dressed in track shorts and a sports bra. She put her hair up in a ponytail and took her phone and headphones before quietly going down the stairs. In the kitchen, she drank a glass of orange juice, wincing slightly as she felt the cold liquid travel down her throat and chill her chest. She walked to the front door and laced her sneakers, then pressed shuffle on her playlist labeled  _RUN BITCH._ As "I'm Only Joking" by KONGOS hit her ears, Shaw went out the front door and started jogging. Her feet pounded the pavement and she shivered a little in the cool air. She ran in time with the music, her ponytail swishing back and forth with every step. As her body welcomed the repetitive movements, Shaw relaxed and let herself think.

Shaw ran through her schedule, mentally cataloguing where each class was and only being confused as to where her Graphics class was. It was stupid that kids had to take a mandatory technology class. Why would Shaw ever need to know how to make her own website? Or PhotoShop a picture? Shaw was fairly certain she could get Finch to do the work for her. He loved this shit. Satisfied, Shaw then tried to remember which classes she had friends in. She knew she would have AP Chem with Carter, but that was it. Cole and Grice were wild cards, Martine was taking several weird separate French classes and Hersh would have his senior classes...  _Huh. I don't have many friends._ Shaw shrugged. It's not like she needed them.

Faster than she'd anticipated, Shaw was nearing her house again. She glanced at her watch and saw it was 6:00. As she headed towards the driveway, she couldn't help but look at Root's house.  _She's weird, okay. And you get weird around her. Whatever._

Shaw entered her house, running up to her room and switching on the shower. She undressed and washed herself quickly, switching the shower off five minutes after it was turned on. Shaw blow dried her hair and brushed it, deciding to keep it down. As she looked in the mirror, she couldn't help but admire her form. You'd have to be blind to not acknowledge the physical perfection Shaw had worked hard for. Shooting herself an appreciative look, Shaw got dressed in black jeans and a black shirt, then laced up her boots. 

Her stomach made protests, but Shaw was determined to get everything in order before she ate a huge breakfast. Hurriedly, she put a few notebooks, folders, and pencils in her backpack and folded her schedule up and put it in her pocket next to her phone. About to zip up the backpack, she hesitated. After a minute, she slipped her nano in the hidden pocket, double checking the safety, and then closed up the bag. _Finch did say to always be prepared._ She grabbed her switchblade too, and slipped it in her boot. No harm in that.

Shaw made her way to the kitchen and started frying some bacon and eggs. She put four pieces of bread in the toasters (Finch had to buy two toasters when he realized just how partial Shaw was to her food) and started the coffeemaker. As the food cooked, she went to the drawer Finch kept all the extra money in and took a twenty for lunch. When the food was ready, Shaw devoured it in minutes, stopping every now and then to take a drink. She filled her thermos with the black coffee and cleaned up the dishes. Leaning against the counter, Shaw mentally prepared herself for the first day of her junior year. The work was gonna suck, but everything else should be fine. Hook up with a few people, maybe Tomas, no strings attached, definitely no relationships. Excel in field hockey in the fall, ice hockey in winter and spring. Dig into more of Finch's secrets. Fuck with John-- No, remember to call John when he's gone. Where is he going, anyway? Finch and John never told her. Reminding herself to ask when she got home, Shaw looked at the time. 6:58 am. Time to meet the nerd.

Shaw swung her bag onto her back and left the house, shutting the door quietly behind her. Her phone buzzed and she slid open the lock screen. 

Carter:  _Ready for hell?_

To Carter: _hell can't do shit to us_

Carter: _You right_

Carter: _See you in chem_

Shaw locked her phone and walked over to the Groves residence, knocking on the door at precisely 7 am. Shaw waited somewhat awkwardly for two minutes until the door swung open. Just by looking at her face, Shaw knew Root had waited those two minutes on purpose.

"Good morning, Sameen," Root said sweetly.

"Let's go," Shaw muttered, turning around and going to the end of the driveway. She stood there for a moment before realizing Root hadn't moved from the doorway. "Well?" she said exasperatedly, raising her eyebrows.

Root chuckled and went back inside, the door swinging shut behind her. Shaw shook her head and rolled her eyes, taking her thermos from the backpack's side pocket and taking a large gulp. The liquid scalded her and she bit back a curse. A few minutes later, the garage door groaned open and the BMW emerged. Shaw briskly walked to the passenger seat and got in, shoving her bag to her feet and buckling in a swift motion. Root watched her, then asked, "Ready to roll?"

Shaw jerked her head yes and Root started driving to school. It was silent in the car besides Shaw's intermittent sips of coffee. 

"What, no coffee for me?" Root eventually said, a smile playing on her lips. 

"Make your own," Shaw grunted.

Her whole body was tense as she pretended to be at ease in the leather seat. Already, Shaw had calculated how much time it would take and what injuries she would sustain if she got out of the car while it was still running. You know, if there were an emergency. 

In comparison, Root appeared to be the picture of relaxation, leaning back in her seat with her fingers drumming out a pattern on the steering wheel. Her eyes drifted towards Shaw every now and then, and Shaw felt it as if they were drilling holes in her. 

"You know, you're right. Let me just stop by Starbucks--"

"No fucking way, Root. We're already behind schedule. I have to get there early to find my computer classroom."

Root raised her eyebrows, yet there was a slight air of excitement around her. " _You're_ taking a coding class?"

"Some dumb graphics thing. Mandatory."

"Didn't know you were the punctual type, either. Though, you do seem to like to be in control."

Shaw clenched her fingers around her thermos tighter. "Just drive." 

When they finally reached the school parking lot, Shaw grabbed her bag and opened the door, and was about to leave when some words slipped out of her mouth not of her own accord. "Starbucks is overrated, anyway."

Frowning at her accidental comment and not wanting to hear Root's reply, Shaw slammed the car door, then apologized to the car in her head for her aggression. It wasn't the car's fault its owner was an insufferable--

Forget it.

Shaw speed walked through the parking lot and entered the building. It was 7:25. She had two and a half minutes to find this Graphics classroom. Taking out her schedule, she read the room number was C203. Second floor, presumably C wing. She hurried up to the second floor, nodding to people she knew as she passed, and finally found the room full of computers. Shaw quickly added the location to her mental map of her schedule and was about to leave when she heard her name.

"Sameen? Are you Sameen Shaw?"

The source of the voice was a middle-aged guy with glasses. A teacher, probably.

Shaw nodded. "Yeah, I have period... eight in here. Graphics." 

"Ah yes, I was hoping to find you before classes started. The computer alerted me to this predicament. Unfortunately, the computer logged Graphics as filled, and it appears as though there is no space for you in the class."

Shaw glared at the teacher. "And what do you suppose I do about that,  _sir_?"

He stepped back almost involuntarily. "There is only one spot open in eighth period for a technology course. Coding 101."

"I'm not doing that," Shaw said immediately. "That's not what I signed up for."

"The computer already placed you in it. I'm sorry, Sameen."

Shaw advanced on him. "First of all, do not call me Sameen. Secondly, I signed up for Graphics and that is what I intend to take this year, so you can go fix your machine right now, before I--"

"Is there a problem, Ms. Shaw?"

Shaw whirled around and saw the principal, Dr. Greer. "No problem, sir." She knew she couldn't fight the principal, even though she wanted to. Not after the student body president election debacle last year. That was quite the mess, and Finch had warned her not to cause anything that could get her kicked out of the school or draw even more attention to herself. 

"Good," Greer said, studying her. "How's Mr. Finch?"

"...fine," Shaw said suspiciously. She never understood this guy's fascination with her foster father.  _Gross. Never think foster father again. Finch is Finch._

"Tell him hello from me," Greer said pleasantly. "And Ms. Shaw?"

Shaw waited.

"Do stay out of trouble this year. It would be most undesirable if we had any more problems." 

With that, Greer turned and left.

Shaw focused back on the teacher. "It's your lucky day. What room is Coding in?"

"E107."

Shaw heard the bell ring and she cursed. She saw the teacher start to say something and then think better of it.  _Smart move._

She half jogged to her first period, US History. The teacher was already talking when she plopped into the only available seat. 

"Tardiness is unacceptable," the teacher said, staring pointedly at Shaw. Shaw raised her eyebrows and stared back defiantly. The teacher looked away and continued stating his ground rules. Shaw took in her surroundings. Her seat was towards the back. She scanned the room's occupants. Greenfield, Peck, Kelli,  Leon, etc. Martine was seated on her left. 

"Late? That's new," Martine whispered cockily. "Better not make it a habit or I'll smoke your ass in this class, too."

"Smoke your ass? Jesus, Rousseau. I thought you'd get better vocab over the summer. Besides, it wasn't my fault. Your buddy Greer held me up and then there were technical difficulties."

Martine frowned. "What did he want?"

"Just to say hi to Finch."

Before Martine could respond, the teacher snapped at them. "Ladies! Shut your mouths, unless you want a detention your first day."

Shaw looked at the board, seeing Mr. Collier written in precise lettering. The girls didn't say another word, though Shaw shot him a glare. The rest of the period passed quickly, and Shaw went to her next class, AP Chemistry. She sat down next to Carter, and Carter immediately started talking about her AP English course. "It sounds really interesting, and the books should be okay, too."

"Who's in it with you?"

"Symanski, Cole... Cal Beecher," Carter said the last name rather softly.

"Oh yeah? Carter, you gotta go for it. You've been pining over Cal for how long now?"

Carter opened her mouth to speak but Shaw cut her off.

"Too long. Where does he sit?"

"We're next to each other," Carter said excitedly.

"That's my girl," Shaw teased. 

Their conversation was interrupted by Grice and Brooks coming over. "Hey, Shaw," Grice said. Brooks nodded at her. "Wanna be a group of four?"

Shaw and Carter exchanged looks. These two were smart. Should be good. 

"Sure, Grice."

The teacher began speaking and the group planned out who would do what for every lab. It soon became clear that this group would dominate the class. As the bell rang, Grice followed Shaw out. "Shaw, wanna hang out this weekend? You said you'd show me some more combat tips."

"Be a little quieter, alright?"

"What? Shaw, your secret underground mixed martial arts classes that no one knows about?" Grice fake yelled to the hallway. 

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Shut up. I'm only giving you and Brooks a few lessons, anyway. Not the whole school, so be quiet."

Grice's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah, but don't go feeling special. I can't do anything; John is leaving Sunday. Next weekend, maybe."

Grice nodded. "I'll clear my schedule."

"Whatever," Shaw replied. Grice left, and Carter laughed. "That boy idolizes you."

"Fine with me," Shaw said. "He's a quick learner."

"You better hope Finch doesn't find out you've been training other people. I know I'm the only person you've told about your weird situation."

Shaw shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Carter."

The two parted ways for their next class. The day seemed to fly by as Shaw went from class to class. It was seventh period before she knew it. P.E.

Shaw spotted Grice in her class immediately. Tomas was there, too. He grinned cockily at her, and proceeded to do a few pull-ups to impress her. She rolled her eyes but smiled, and went over to Grice, giving him a high five. "Fuck yeah," she muttered. "Finally, a good gym partner." They started doing pushups, each trying to outlast the other. Eventually, Grice couldn't continue and sat up. "Beaten once again by a midget."

Shaw smirked. "This midget will always beat you."

The teacher began explaining the unit of the quarter, volleyball. Shaw tuned her out and began thinking about her last period. Coding. Shaw internally vomited. That was way worse than some shitty ass Graphics class. As the bell rang, Grice walked her to her last class. "I'll text you about the Chem work, alright?" Shaw nodded, and the boy walked off. Shaw entered room E107 and sat down next to Cole. 

"Hey, nerd," Shaw said fondly. 

"Yeah, yeah. What gives? I didn't know you were taking Coding."

"I didn't know either. And I didn't think you'd be taking Coding 101."

"Yeah, it's a prerequisite for the more advanced stuff. I'm stuck with it. But at least I'll ace it," Cole said happily. "Can't say the same for you."

The teacher started to talk, introducing himself, and Shaw began to doodle on her notebook. 

"We also have a TA this class. Samantha, would you like to say a few things?"

Shaw heard that voice she already knew so well.

"You can call me Root."

Shaw's head shot up, and found Root's piercing gaze, a cheeky smile on her face.

_Oh fuck no._

She heard Cole chuckle beside her. "Root, that's clever."

"Oh god, shut up Cole. I don't need that right now."

Cole frowned. "What bit you in the ass?"

"Her," Shaw muttered.

"I'll be your TA this year," Root continued. "If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask. I'll also be available for private tutoring sessions... If necessary." Root winked at Shaw, and Shaw felt like her face was burning. Everyone in the class was staring at her, so she ducked her head down and scribbled angrily on her paper.

"She likes you," Cole said as a grin spread across his face. "Oh, I am going to have so much fun with this."

Shaw ignored him and focused on her breathing. It would not be good if she punched someone the first day of school.

The first day, which had thirty-one more minutes remaining. Shaw breathed in and out, clenching her fists. Finally, the last bell of the day rang and Shaw stood up immediately, hurrying out of the classroom. A hand grabbed her arm, and she seized and twisted it before seeing who it was. 

Root's face was contorted in pain, but if anything she looked more interested in Shaw. "Hey, sweetie."

"Give me one good reason not to break your hand right now," Shaw whispered, her face close to Root's.

"Well, for one, I need my hand to code. Which is important. And secondly, then how else would you get home?" Root's eyes wandered to Shaw's lips.

Shaw cursed in her head. She hadn't realized she would need rides home, too.

"Fine," she muttered, releasing Root's arm. "But this class? It's not gonna be a permanent thing."

Root rubbed her arm slowly. "But this is the only available spot in eighth period that fulfills a technology class requirement, Sameen."

Shaw furrowed her brow. "How do you know that?"

Root shrugged innocently. "Let's get going!"

"Root!" Shaw said.

Root ignored her and started walking towards the exit, her hair gracefully flowing behind her. 

_Jesus. Why did I just think that._

Shaw followed her, having to take several steps to catch up to Root's long strides. 

"This is perfect, Sam. We have our last class together, meaning we don't have to waste time finding each other after school. I am  _so_ glad this worked out."

Shaw said nothing, deciding to fume silently. They reached the car and Shaw got in quickly, slamming the door loudly.

"Well, there's no need to be rude," Root chastised. "This silent treatment really doesn't suit you. Especially since it's not my fault you're stuck with me, it's the computer's fault."

"I have no idea how you know that, but it doesn't matter. I'm gonna fix it. Just drive," Shaw snapped.

Root conceded, and she began driving home. Shaw stewed in the passenger seat, her legs tucked up on the seat, and played with the switchblade in her boot.  _I could kill her twenty-three different ways with this knife._

Shaw spent the ride home imagining every scenario in painstaking detail. 

When they arrived, Shaw leapt out of the car, her hand grasping the knife unconsciously. Root got out, and eyed the knife. "Whatcha got there, Shaw?"

Shaw looked down and hurriedly put the knife in her pocket. "Nothing."

She whirled around and walked to her own house, slamming the door as she stepped across the threshold.

"Someone had a bad day," John remarked as he watched her kick off her boots angrily and throw her backpack on the floor. 

"That fucking bitch fucked up my fucking schedule," Shaw half-shouted. 

"What are you talking about?" John said.

"Root!" Shaw exclaimed. "She's good at computers;  _I just know_ she did it. She switched around my Graphics class and now I'm taking a Coding class where  _she's_ the TA."

John looked at her in disbelief. "You're saying Root hacked into the school system just for the sole purpose of TA-ing one of your classes."

"Yes! No! I don't know! But she's fucking insane. I have to change classes."

"Well, that might be tricky. If she can hack everything."

Shaw took out her switchblade, running her fingers over the edge tenderly. "She can't hack me."

"O-kay. Shaw, you gotta chill. This is one class out of eight." John approached her, slowly taking the knife out of her resistant hands. "Are your other classes good?" Shaw nodded begrudgingly. "Then you can deal with it." 

Shaw took a deep breath. "I guess. But she fucking owes me."

"You figure that out on your own," John said, relieved he got out of that unscathed. "Maybe take the bus tomorrow to see if it would really be that bad?"

Shaw pursed her lips, contemplating. "Maybe."

 


	5. Day 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a while; life is very busy at the moment. thanks for all the nice comments!

The next morning, Shaw stood in her underwear in the bathroom after her shower and ran through her options.

One: Get a ride with Root. Creepy, annoying, infuriating Root. Pros: Ride to school. Cons: Root. Have to resist the urge to kill Root. 

Two: Take the bus. Pros: No Root. Cons: The gross bus. Lionel. Incessant chitchat. Unreliable timing. 

Three: Walk to school- no. Scratch that.

Fuck.

 

* * *

Shaw knocked on the front door and waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

This was becoming a pattern, she could tell.

She rapped on the door more forcefully, and when the door swung open, almost punched Root in the face.

"Sameen," Root said, smiling. "As much as I love your display of passive aggression, my mother is trying to sleep."

"Then open the goddamn door when I knock," Shaw barked back. "Let's get going."

"Whatever you say, honey."

Root closed the door and soon Shaw heard the garage open. She swiftly got into the passenger seat and shut the door, crossing her arms defiantly. Root glanced over at her. "Maybe you should text me instead of knocking."

Shaw gave a jerk of her head and Root looked back at the road, satisfied. 

They arrived at school and Shaw got out quickly. She was about to shut the door when she heard Root say, "Shaw? You might want to get rid of that gun and knife. They're doing checks already. Periods 1 and 7. Something about 'being vigilant' this year. New school protocol." 

Shaw froze. She knew Root saw her knife briefly yesterday, but how would she know about the gun?  She turned to face Root but the brunette was already gone, disappearing into the school. Shaw groaned and shut the car door, searching the parking lot for a place to put her weapons. Sure, she didn't like Root, but there was no reason for her to be lying about the checks. After all, Root seemed to know everything.

Shaw finally found a bush and put the nano and the knife inside it, secure and hidden. She rushed into the building, managing to plop herself in her seat in US History right as the bell rang. Mr. Collier looked at her disapprovingly, but began his lecture. Shaw started to zone out, assigning a small part of her brain to listen to Collier in case he called on her.

_How the hell did Root know I carry a gun? And why doesn't she care?_

Shaw was frustrated, to say the least. She'd never had the best people skills, but could read someone well enough if she wanted to, or pretend she was just like everyone else. Root was different. She knew just what to say to get under Shaw's skin, and Shaw hated it. Enigmatic was Shaw's least favorite personality trait to deal with. Okay, maybe not least favorite, but it sure sucked.

Shaw's thoughts were interrupted by a security guard entering the classroom. "Mandatory inspection. Please let me look through your bags. It is a matter of school security."

Shaw rolled her eyes. Root was correct. As per usual. 

She unzipped her backpack and took out her folders and notebooks and saw her other classmates doing the same. A few were sweating. _Probably carrying weed_ , she thought. She glanced over to her left and saw Martine visibly nervous.

"Holy shit, Rousseau. Don't tell me  _you're_ packing heat," Shaw said in disbelief. "I mean, I always knew you were kinda psycho and somewhat devoid of emotion like me, though I'm hotter of course, but I didn't expect you to be carrying. At school."

Martine glared at her. "You don't understand."

Shaw put her hands up defensively. "You've got me there."

"So?" Martine said impatiently. "Are you going to help me? Where did you put your shit?"

"Me? Sameen Shaw, carrying weapons at school?" Shaw said. "Wherever did you get that notion?"

"Fuck you," Martine muttered as the guard inched closer. 

"Look. If I did, I would hypothetically ditch them outside before school whenever I knew a check was coming. And if I was caught unprepared, I would ditch them in another kid's backpack and steal them back from security later. Or ask someone to create a diversion and put them behind some books or some shit, or slip out and go to the bathroom to put in those big janitorial trash cans."

Martine nodded. Shaw watched her stealthily put a SIG-Sauer P229R and a Walther P99 in Walter Dang's bag. 

_What on earth is going on in this school?_  

When the guard got to Martine's desk, she smiled sweetly at him. Shaw rolled her eyes. The guard found nothing in hers or Shaw's, and moved on to Walter. He lifted the two guns out and stared at Walter. "Really, kid? What were you planning on doing with these?"

Walter's eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously. "Those aren't mine! I swear they aren't!" The guard took him by the elbow and dragged him out of the class, and Walter's cries of protest echoed down the hallway. 

Shaw and Martine smirked. 

"Thanks, Shaw," Martine said hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me one. Besides, it's not like anything's gonna happen to Dang. That kid is clean. They'll realize that. Then they'll look for the real owner."

"I'll take care of it."

"Right, 'cause Greer is like your buddy. Why the hell do you have those, anyway?"

Martine gave a noncommittal shrug. "Why did you hypothetically ditch your guns outside?"

Shaw's eyes narrowed. "Touché."

The bell rang and Collier waved them out the door, reminding them that the incident didn't clear them of the homework. Shaw strode out of the class, satisfied that she now had Martine in her debt. She entered AP Chem and sat down next to Carter.

"Holy shit, Sam. Did you hear about Walter Dang and Simon Lee and Harper Rose?"

Shaw frowned. "Dang was in my class, yeah. What about the other two?"

"Simon had a Glock 17 on him! What the fuck? He and Walter are like the perfect students. I don't get it. Simon is already spreading his conspiracy theories around the school, even as the guards were dragging him away. Harper had like medical marijuana dispensary in her locker and was carrying. This is crazy. Second day of school, too," Carter said in disbelief.

"Okay, we all already knew about the pot. But I'm surprised about Lee. And that Harper was carrying..." Shaw trailed off.

Carter's eyes narrowed. "You know something about Walter. Don't you tell me that you had a gun, too."

Shaw grinned. "Not when they checked."

"Jesus, Sam! You planted your gun on  _Walter_?" 

Shaw shook her head. "I'm not that dumb. But I know who did. Don't worry, Carter. He won't get in trouble. What really confuses me is Lee and Rose. They wouldn't carry."

"Maybe someone planted on them, too."

Shaw thought of who might bring a gun to school. Yogorov. Terney. Maybe a few others. 

"What kind of school do we go to?" Shaw wondered aloud.

Grice and Brooks arrived and sat down. "Talking about the guns?" Grice said excitedly. 

Shaw gave a terse nod. She wondered if Finch knew about this, and that's why he wanted her to be prepared, too.

Grice leaned towards Shaw. "Don't worry, Shaw. They didn't catch me."

Shaw hit him on the head. "What the fuck, Grice? Why do you have a gun?" she whispered angrily.

"Chill, it's just a knife. They found Lee's gun before they got to me, so they didn't check me."

"Give it to me."

"What? No."

Shaw held her hand out impatiently. "They're having a second check later on. Give it to me. You're an imbecile for bringing a weapon to school. You're not a fucking ninja, Grice." 

Grice looked at her, a little ashamed. He handed her the switchblade and she tucked it into her boot. "Don't do this again."

Grice nodded. Shaw sighed deeply. Fucking children.

During passing time, Shaw snuck into a vacant classroom and slipped the knife into a vent, muttering curses the whole time.

When seventh period rolled around, a security guard entered the gym and began checking bags. Grice caught Shaw's eye and nodded thanks. She shook her head and continued picking at her nails.

When she entered the computer lab, Shaw was in a very bad mood.

She sat next to Cole and took out her notebook, starting to draw a Walther P99 after Martine's.

"Really, Shaw?" Cole said. "Drawing guns on the day that security found 7 people packing serious heat? To be honest, I'm surprised you're not one of them."

Shaw flipped him off. "It's not a good time, Cole. Why does everyone assume that I'd have a weapon? You, Carter, Martine..." Root.

"Because you act like you want to kill everyone in this school. Besides, those people you just listed, including me, do know you pretty well. As well as you'll let us."

 Shaw just grunted. Cole hesitantly patted her on the shoulder, and returned to typing in code on his computer.

The teacher began class. "Given the circumstances of today, you all can fiddle around on your computers; try to figure some things out on your own before I begin real work."

Shaw exhaled in relief. She was not in the mood to do geek shit.

"Hey, sweetie."

Shaw's gripped her pen tightly. "Root."

Root looked at her innocently. "I don't get a thank you?"

"I somehow get the feeling that's not why you warned me."

"Or what I really want in return."

Shaw raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

Root tilted her head. "Haven't decided yet."

Shaw rolled her eyes and continued drawing. Root sat down next to her and began coding in her own program, every now and then watching Shaw's pen strokes. When the bell rang, Shaw said bye to Cole and walked out with Root. In the parking lot, Shaw subtly retrieved her gun and blade from the bush and walked to Root's car. Root started the car up and they left the lot. 

"Today was eventful," Root said.

"How did you know?" Shaw asked, wondering if she really wanted to know.

"I'm good at computers," Root said.

"So you admit you changed my schedule?" Shaw accused.

Root only smiled.

"Whatever," Shaw huffed. She looked out the window and sighed. 

"Look. I think it's for the best. I look out for you."

Shaw swiveled her head to stare at Root. "And what do you want in exchange for that? Why are you even doing this?"

Root shifted her gaze away. "There are things even I don't know, Sameen," she said, a tinge of  _something_ coating her words and Shaw can't place it.

They pulled into Root's driveway and Shaw got out. She stood, clutching her bag, and searched for words to say.

"Thank you," she finally managed, and walked away without looking back.

* * *

 

Shaw opened her front door and greeted John. "You won't believe what happened today."

He looked at her, waiting.

" _Seven_ people got busted for weapons. Don't worry, I wasn't one of them," Shaw said as John opened his mouth. He motioned for her to continue.

"All seven were completely the opposite of who you'd expect. Well, except Terney. He's pretty stupid."

John nodded in agreement.

"I helped Rousseau plant her guns on Dang, so that explains one of them. But I don't get the other ones, or why the hell we have so many students carrying guns at a high school."

"Why would you help Martine, Shaw?" John said. "You hate her. She's with Greer."

"I don't  _hate_ her. I mean, she's a bitch and all, but she's like me, but a little more morally grey? I didn't see the point of her getting caught. Now she owes me a favor."

John shook his head. "I think it's risky. Where were your guns?"

"I got a tip they were doing checks. I was lucky. Though, I would have found a way out either way," Shaw finished cockily.

John frowned and scratched his head. "You need to find out who those other guns belonged to. Harold would want to know."

"So this rampant gun problem isn't why Finch is training us?"

"No," John said slowly. "Though it certainly might become partly why."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "I'm really getting tired of this enigmatic crap you two are pulling."

John waved her comment away. "Who tipped you off?"

Shaw hesitated. "Just some kid. He was afraid of me, I guess."

John studied her. "Sure."

Shaw turned away from John's piercing gaze and went upstairs. She took out her phone.

To Root:  _know how to wire a bug well? since you're just so good at computers_

Root:  _I'll be right over, Sameen ;)_

 

 


	6. Day 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long I'm sorry!!!

_Friday,_ Shaw thought, as she put her calculator in her backpack.  _Finally._  

Shaw felt a tinge of sadness as she realized that meant John would be leaving in two days, but brushed it off. Sentimentality was overrated.

She went downstairs to the kitchen and put a few frozen waffles in the toaster oven. She started the coffeemaker and accidentally put in much more than necessary. _Can't waste coffee this good,_ Shaw thought to herself. As she poured herself a glass of juice, her thoughts wandered to yesterday afternoon.

* * *

"Knock knock, sweetie," Shaw heard three minutes after she received Root's text. She whirled around and saw Root fiddling with one of her pens. A messenger bag was slung over her shoulder. Shaw glared at her. 

"What? The door was open," Root said innocently. 

"Whatever," Shaw muttered and rolled her eyes. 

"So," Root said, entering Shaw's bedroom and sitting in her computer chair. "Whose privacy are we invading?"

"First of all," Shaw said, snatching the pen out of her hand, "There is no  _we._ You're just helping me out."

"I seem to be doing that a lot lately. I almost think you like having me around."

Shaw ignored her and rummaged in one of her drawers. She found the device she was looking for and thrust it at Root. "Here."

Root full out laughed. "This is the bug you want to use? Really?"

"What?" Shaw said defensively.

"It's... This is for children, Sameen. I thought you'd be more equipped."

"I found it in Finch's library. I thought it would suffice."

Root looked puzzled for a moment. "Why would Harold have such rudimental material?"

"Why are you acting like you know anything about _Harold_?" Shaw said protectively, injecting the last word with hostility.

Root shrugged. "You're right. He's your dad."

Shaw could feel the anger building up inside her. " _Not_ my dad."

Root noticed the shift in Shaw's demeanor and quickly backtracked, holding her hands up in surrender, though her eyes still had an interested glint. "You're right. Let's just get started." She took a laptop out of her bag, as well as some wires, small tools, and what looked like another bug.

"I'll try to modify this poorly constructed bug for you, and you can use this other one on Reese."

Shaw's eyebrows unwillingly raised in surprise.

"Oh please, Sameen. I'm pretty good at secrets, excellent, actually, and I can tell you're ready to dig into your own family's." Root began disassembling the bug with precision. "And trust me, I'm sensing there's a whole lot of them."

Shaw grunted. Root couldn't tell if it was in agreement or not, but she chose to interpret it that way. "Why don't you just bluejack them?"

"They'd catch it pretty quick. Finch is paranoid, as I'm sure you know. You're his neighbor, after all."

Root looked up from her work and made direct eye contact with Shaw, a sly smile curling on her face. "Then let's hide these really damn well."

* * *

 

Shaw made her way out the front door, the taste of the subpar waffles still coating her mouth. She sent a short text to Root: _ready_

She sat on her front steps and waited for the increasingly familiar sound of Root's garage door opening. She took a sip of her coffee and swiped through her Twitter feed disinterestedly. A few spoke of the security check yesterday, and Shaw made a mental note to look into a few things today. Shaw hesitated, then exited out of the app and opened up one titled inconspicuously as "Not a Bug." Fucking Root. 

Shaw turned the volume on and tapped on Not a Bug 1 on the menu screen. She heard John's telltale snoring and scoffed. Only this boy's snores could cut through sheets and the heavy fabric of his black duffel bag. She didn't bother clicking on Not a Bug 2, knowing it would broadcast silence. The second modified bug was in Shaw's gun drawer, waiting until Finch came back from his trip. Shaw knew she should feel guilty, or whatever, but she didn't. 

The sound of the garage snapped Shaw out of her thoughts, and she closed the app, putting the phone in her pocket. She climbed into the BMW and buckled up, nodding at Root. 

"What's that, Sam?"

Shaw glanced at her. "What? Oh. Here." She stiffly handed Root a plastic thermos of coffee that was in her backpack's side pocket. "I made too much this morning."

Shaw averted Root's gaze, looking down at her backpack. She could feel Root's eyes boring holes into her, and it was uncomfortable, but not as much as she had imagined it to be.

"How sweet of you," Root said, her voice having traces of laughter and genuine appreciation.

Shaw waved her hand disinterestedly. "Let's go."

Root placed the cup in the cupholder, and stared at Shaw for a few more seconds, then put the car in drive.

"I expect the thermos back after school, by the way."

* * *

 

Shaw walked into US History feeling somewhat... She wouldn't say happy, but... it was a light feeling. Something similar to it.

She sat down next to Martine, who greeted her with a nod. 

"Did you get your Walther and other piece back?"

"With a little persuasion," Martine said, smirking. "My Walther did not belong with Walter."

Shaw wisely chose to ignore that alliteration. "It was a nice piece."

Martine only smiled in response, the look on her face letting Shaw know that she knew that.

"How did you know? About the check?"

Now it was Shaw's turn to grin. "I have my sources."

"All right, class," Mr. Collier said, clapping his hands. "I think it would be wise to discuss the events of yesterday. To call it an invasion of privacy would be a gross understatement."

_This guy has strong opinions_ , Shaw thought to herself.

"Can we brainstorm other instances of when our government stuck its nose in places it didn't belong? Or perhaps when it invaded our privacy in less overt ways?"

_Chill_ , Shaw thought.  _This is_ _history class. What has the government ever done to you?_

Shaw tuned out the rest of the class, most of it being Collier ranting angrily to a roomful of uncomfortable teenagers. When the bell rang, she got up and turned to Martine. "I'll let you know when I'm gonna cash in that favor, Rousseau."

Martine's stare turned icy. "You do that."

Shaw grinned smugly to herself. Martine was a bitch, but a bitch that kept her word, even begrudgingly.

Shaw walked to AP Chem, settling in next to Carter.

"Hey, Sam," Carter said, nudging her shoulder. "Did you take the notes?"

"My hand was cramping like a motherfucker by the end of it, but yeah."

Grice and Brooks sat down across from them. "Yeah, those were a bitch," Brooks said. 

Grice leaned over the table and said in a hushed voice, "Any idea when I can get my knife back? I kinda paid a lot for it, so..."

Shaw smacked him upside the head. "You'll get it when you deserve it."

Brooks and Carter snickered as Grice rubbed his head. "Yeah, yeah."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Next weekend. My house. Training."

Grice's face immediately lit up. "Sweet, Sameen!"

Shaw's eyes narrowed.

"Shaw, I meant Shaw; sorry, man."

"Fucking whipped, bro," Brooks said. Carter nodded in agreement.

Shaw hid her smile and looked at the blonde. "You too, Brooks."

Brooks smiled back. "I'll be there."

The teacher began the class, and Shaw let herself get lost in ions and molarity. Science she understood. People not as easily. Why did Grice follow her around like an eager puppy? It was somewhat sweet, but mostly irritating. As if Shaw could give Grice what he wanted. Affection. Shaw frowned. Better not to dwell on her incapabilities. It only distracted from her strengths. Which she had plenty of.

By P.E., Shaw had a lot of pent up energy to get rid of. She ran a bunch of laps around the gym as the other kids milled around and talked to their friends. Tomas caught up to her and smiled. "There's a party at my house this weekend. Sunday. Celebrate the last moments of our freedom. All the seniors and juniors are invited. Though I'm hoping someone in particular will come."

"Acclaimed culinary chef Masaharu Morimoto?"

Tomas slowed down a little in confusion. "Um, no?"

"Damn. That would be cool."

Tomas looked at her, bewildered.

"I'm fucking with you. I'll be there," Shaw said. "Though it would be cool.The food he creates... I think I'd die. Bobby Flay, too..." Shaw trailed off.

Tomas, pleased with the first part of the answer, grinned at Shaw, then broke away from her laps. Shaw could tell his breathing was staggered. Wimp.

* * *

 

Coding 101. Shaw slumped in her seat, a little winded from the countless laps she completed and then the fierce game of dodgeball.

"You fucking stink, Sam," Cole said, pinching his nose and pretending to wave the air.

Shaw flipped him off. "It's not that bad."

"59 percent of the class would be in disagreement with you, Sameen," Root said, approaching the pair. "Cole."

Cole grinned at Root. "See, Shaw? Or is it Sameen now?"

"Not a chance, dumbass. And how did you come up with that statistic?" Shaw said grumpily, directing her attention to Root.

Root only smiled knowingly. "Maybe get stronger deodorant."

Shaw flipped Root off, too.

* * *

 

When the pair pulled into Root's driveway, the car windows rolled all the way down and the sunroof opened at Root's insistence, as Shaw "just simply smelled so amazingly horrid", Root handed Shaw back her thermos. "There you go, sweetie."

Shaw took it and tucked it into her bag. "Hope you enjoyed it. It's quality shit right there."

"I did," Root said. "Knowing you made it  _especially_ for me."

Shaw groaned. "I'm leaving now."

They both got out of the car. Shaw turned and was about to cross the street when she heard Root's voice. "If you ever need anything else, just ask. I saw you were struggling with the coding today. I could give you a free pass."

Shaw turned back around. "Isn't that unethical?"

Root smiled grimly. "I don't think either of us particularly listen to morals, do we, Sameen?"

Shaw detected the change in tone and quickly said, "Why don't you just help me with the lessons a little and then we'll see. I don't like things just handed to me."

Root conceded, a small smile on her face. "Take a shower, Shaw."

She slipped inside her house, and Shaw was left watching the door close.

As she entered her own house, John's voice startled her. "What's up with you and Root?"

"Nothing," Shaw said reflexively. "She's just gonna help me with coding."

"I'm glad you got over your shit," John said. "By the way, Harold called. He's coming back from his trip a little early to see me off."

"How endearing," Shaw said, taking her shoes off. "When?"

"Saturday night."

"Okay. I'm going to Tomas's Sunday night. Big party, supposedly."

John smirked. "Make good choices, Shaw. Use protection."

Shaw threw a shoe at him.

  


	7. Squirrels and Numbers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! i'm on break right now thank god so i figured i should write a little. also i realize this isn't a classic high school AU, but i don't think I could ever write anything that OOC. So it's like shaw is in high school, but the machine and numbers and stuff still exist. finch is training her and john and she doesn't know for what, because she isn't aware of the machine's existence.

Shaw groaned. Numbers 3 to 64 was scrawled messily in the Chemistry section of her homework planner. While ionic and covalent bonding wasn't exactly a challenge for her, she didn't particularly want to do 62 problems on it.

Shaw stared out the window. It was a beautiful day. She could hear children laughing as they pedaled their bicycles and the rhythmic thud of a basketball hitting asphalt. 

Fuck it.

Shaw closed her textbook and went to the basement. John sat there, playing his dumb video game, and Shaw shook his shoulder.

"Get up. Let's do something."

John glanced up at her. "What do you have in mind?"

"I dunno, but it's your last day here and I figure anything is better than you wasting your life away shooting fictional characters."

John glared at her. "Fine, Shaw. Would you rather shoot real people?"

Shaw paused. "What?"

John realized what he'd said and busied himself by shooting a few more CGI people. "Never mind. What do you want to do?"

"No, John. What do you mean by that?"

"C'mon, Shaw. What do you think Harold has been training us for?"

"How the fuck would I know? You guys never tell me anything. But I doubt it would be to shoot anybody. Finch can barely kill a spider." Shaw stared intently at John. "What do you know? I'm done with your guys' shit. Tell me right now, or I swear I'll beat you into the next dimension."

John looked unamused. "As if you could."

Shaw raised her eyebrows. "Do you want to test that theory?"

John sighed. "Finch is gonna be pissed."

"I don't care."

John got up and shut off his game. "Follow me."

Shaw followed John as he walked upstairs and to Finch's padlocked cage to his library. John produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, and motioned for Shaw to enter. Shaw couldn't help but feel a tingle of something close to excitement, but the annoyance of being left out was heavier and crushed the fleeting moment.

There was a large wooden table in the center of the room covered in computers and displays. The walls were all bookshelves crammed with variously colored novels organized by the Dewey Decimal System. There were a few windows overlooking the backyard, and a large bulletin board made of glass was in front of it. Shaw approached the board and saw papers and photographs taped onto it. 

"What the hell is this?"

John came up to her. "Why we do what we do."

Shaw memorized the headshot in the center of the board. "Who's this?"

"Katie Gould. She's in danger. We think a basic domestic abuse case."

Shaw furrowed her brows. "Explain. Everything."

John sat down on the table and rubbed his temple. "I can't explain everything, because I'm not supposed to be telling you this in the first place. It's Finch's job. But to think we expected you to be complacent with not knowing was irrational. That's why you're suited to this work."

"Stop talking in puzzles like Finch and get to it."

"Okay, okay. Finch is a genius, as you know. He gets intel that certain people are going to be in trouble, life-threatening trouble, but he doesn't know if that person is going to be a perpetrator or a victim. It's our job to assess the situation and save the person's life and those around them from bad things. Katie here," John said, motioning to the picture, "As far as we can tell, lives with a sadistic husband who puts her at risk multiple times a month. We have to help her."

Shaw stood there, processing all the information. "How does Finch know? Who's his source? And how do you know that about Katie? Do you  _stalk_ her?"

John winced. "I'd prefer gather information that would help us in saving the number. As for Finch, you'll have to ask him when he gets back tonight."

"Number?"

"The person in danger. Shaw, it'll make more sense later."

"Well, what about Katie? Isn't she in danger right now, assuming all this crazy talk is true? Shouldn't we go help her?"

John hesitated. "I guess we could. I've been checking in on her while you're at school."

Shaw moved to go, but John stopped her. "Grab your piece. And a backup."

Shaw nodded and went to her room, her head swirling with thoughts. How the hell didn't she know about this secret operation happening right under her nose? Harold and John were better at lying than she had thought. She reached in her gun drawer and took out her Heckler and Koch USP Compact and her Smith and Wesson Bodyguard 380, making sure she had enough ammo and put them in her waistband. Shaw grabbed her phone too, and noticed she had a message.

Root:  _Hey, Sameen._

To Root:  _you would not believe my life rn_

Shaw put her phone in her pocket and made her way downstairs, where John was waiting with his keys. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Shut up. You're just worried Finch will be mad."

"For a reason," John muttered, but went outside and started up his car. Shaw followed and shut the door behind her, glancing across the street and seeing a shadow in an upstairs window. 

_Who closes the shades on such a nice day?_ Shaw thought as she got in the car. John backed out of the driveway and headed south. 

"Where does this chick live?"

"Foxworth. She's a nurse at the local hospital, no kids, no friends either. The husband, Sean Gould, is controlling and violent. He's a construction worker. They both should be at home right now, no work on Saturdays, but here." John handed Shaw his phone. She examined it and realized it wasn't his information on it. "You bluejacked their phones? Talk about invasion of privacy."

John ignored her and she went through the phones messages and calendar. "Yeah, they both should be home."

John continued. "I've been watching them for a few days while Harold's been gone. Nothing's happened, but Harold's source is never wrong."

Shaw's own phone buzzed. She took it out and read the message.

Root: _T_ _ell me all about it. Where are you off to in such a hurry?_

"Who is that?"

"Root..." Shaw said, while contemplating her response.

"Not now. Let's focus. It's your first number, albeit accidentally. Let's not get distracted and fuck it up."

Shaw rolled her eyes but conceded, placing her phone back in her pocket. John's phone started dialing.

Shaw said sharply, "John. She's calling 911."

John stepped on the gas, and Shaw put the phone on speaker.

"911, what's your emergency?"

A woman's voice whispered over the line. "My name is Katie Gould and my husband--" The line cut off and John and Shaw looked at each other in alarm.

"Of course the one time you come with me something happens," John said.

They finally reached Foxworth Street and the two got out of the car. "That house," John said, motioning with a jerk of his head. They moved quickly and quietly and peered into a window. A man was throwing objects around the living room, and the woman, who Shaw recognized as Katie, was crying and backing away from the man. Shaw spotted a shattered phone on the ground.

"Fucking slut! Can't keep her eyes off anyone!"

"Sean, please. I only made eye contact with him--"

"'Only' made eye contact? What, were you thinking of doing more with a store clerk than with your fucking husband!"

Sean slapped her in the face, and she fell to the ground. Shaw and John nodded to each other, and went to the front door, John's hand curled around the handle. They both took out their primary guns and waited. 

Sean laughed. "No way, baby. No fucking way." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a revolver, and John and Shaw silently agreed on the next course of action. John busted open the door, and the two entered with barrels aimed at Sean. 

"Who the fuck are you?" Sean said, pointing the gun at Shaw, then at John, back and forth.

"Concerned third party," John said in a friendly tone. "How about you put the gun down?"

Sean smirked. "You first, big guy."

"Big guy?" said Shaw, chuckling. "That's the best you can do?"

Sean's face darkened immediately. "I've had  _enough_ of you bitches who think you can do whatever you want, fuck whoever you want!"

"First of all, he's my foster brother, so ew. Secondly--" Shaw was interrupted by a gunshot. She had instinctively moved to the right as soon as she had seen his twitch his gun hand, but it was a second too late. She felt a piercing pain in her left arm and almost dropped her gun. John shot Sean's kneecap and he went down, clutching his leg. 

"Shaw. Are you okay?" John said, moving to her and keeping his gun trained on Sean.

"Fuck," Shaw grimaced. "Didn't think he'd actually do it."

"Yeah, well. Sometimes it's the people you least expect."

Shaw's eyes caught movement near Sean and saw him struggle to point his revolver back at her. She shot him in the chest, and watched as the gun fell out of his hand and clattered to the floor. 

John stared at her in surprise. "Sam?"

"What," she bit back. "He was about to try again."

"...You're right, I just..."

"Who are you people?"

They both turned to look at Katie. 

"I mean, thank you for saving my life, but..." She had tears in her eyes. "Let me patch you up. It's the least I can do."

Shaw reluctantly nodded and sat down in an armchair while Katie retrieved a first aid kit. 

"I'm a nurse," she said when she returned. "I can't believe Sean was actually going to do that. We've been married for so long."

"Six years," John said. "And how many of those were happy?"

Katie attempted a smile, sadness lingering on her features. "Not many." She cleaned off Shaw's arm and began sewing it up. "It's just a flesh wound, so you should be okay eventually. Change the dressings every 72 hours and keep it dry." Shaw acknowledged her advice and focused on clenching the armchair fabric as her broken skin was tugged with a needle. 

Eventually, Katie was finished and Shaw stood up to go. John and Shaw went to the front door, and Katie stared at her husband's body. "Don't worry, the police are on their way. Say you defended yourself," John said. They walked out the door and into the car, and Shaw could already see blood staining the bandages. 

"You're calm for someone who just got shot and killed someone," John said quietly as he drove them home. 

"Like you said, it was self-defense."

John didn't respond and the rest of the ride home was silent.

* * *

 

Shaw trudged upstairs to her room and carefully laid on her bed, placing her guns on her bedside table and taking her phone out.

Root: _Tell me all about it. Where are you off to in such a hurry?_

To Root: _i'm not normal._ _  
_

Root's response came quickly in the form of a phone call. Shaw hesitated, but clicked answer. 

"I think we all know you're not normal, honey."

"I didn't feel anything when... I hit a squirrel with my car. That's where I was going with John. He was gonna teach me a little bit about driving. I hit a squirrel and I don't feel anything."

"Squirrels aren't exactly the glowing example of living beings, Sameen. Many die every day, some from incompetent drivers like you, and others because they're dumb enough to run into the road. It didn't change anything."

_It didn't change me_ , Shaw thought.  _I've always been this way and I always will._

"Isn't all life important?"

Shaw thought she could hear Root chuckle. "You've been taught well. Sam, it depends who you ask. That one squirrel you killed has a family, of course, but in the grand scheme of the universe? The universe is infinite and chaotic and cold. It doesn't care. Do you?"

"It seems like I should," Shaw said.

"But you don't."

"But I don't."

"And that's you. That's what makes you you."

Shaw laid there in silence, her unoccupied hand fiddling with the bandage on her arm.

"If it makes you feel any better, I probably wouldn't feel anything either." Shaw heard a smile in Root's voice, and the call disconnected.

Shaw stayed in that position, the phone up to her ear, until she fell asleep.

 


	8. Machines and Cigarettes and Root

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for the comments! i figured i'd update to distract myself from cbs's stupidity

When Shaw woke up, she could hear Finch and John talking in hushed voices downstairs. She couldn't quite make the words out, but she could guess Finch was mad at his prodigal son. She peeled her phone off of her cheek and sat up, running a hand through her hair.

She killed someone today.

Sure, he deserved it. But Shaw wondered if that was all. Is this all she would ever feel? Detachment?

Shaw shook her head and stood up, putting her phone on her nightstand. Time to face the music.

Shaw slunk down the stairs to the kitchen and appeared behind Finch like a ghost. It was only John's sudden silence that alerted Harold to another person's presence, and he jerked to face her. Finch wore his classic suit and tie, his briefcase meticulously placed on the counter.

"Ms. Shaw."

"You know Finch, John and I are teenagers. It's kinda weird that you call us Ms. and Mr."

Finch paused. "Yes, you have told me this before. I am aware."

There was silence, and Shaw shifted her weight awkwardly.

Shaw finally grumbled and said in a monotone voice, "Don't be mad. I made John tell me."

Finch sighed. "I suppose you have questions."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Finch gestured for Shaw and John to follow him. They went to the library and Finch sat in his computer chair, rotating to face them both. He sat stiffly, obviously uncomfortable.

"The government has a secret system, a machine that spies on you every hour of every day."

Shaw frowned. "So the machine surveils people? Is that how you knew that woman was in danger? But we're not involved in governmental operations."

"The machine is designed to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything. Violent crimes involving ordinary people, categorized as 'irrelevant' by the government. They wouldn't do anything to stop those acts, so I decided I would. But as you can tell, I'm not equipped to intervene directly."

"So that's why you took in John," Shaw said slowly. "And Kara. And me. We're your little agents."

"I'd rather not you use that term. I care for you three deeply." Finch said the last sentence without making direct eye contact, and Shaw was grateful.

Shaw shrugged. "Whatever. So this machine tells you when normal people are in trouble?"

"Yes, I receive a Social Security number. And we go from there. I hoped to fill you in when you were Mr. Reese's age. This is dangerous work, and you are only a child."

Shaw raised her eyebrows. "A child? Thanks a lot, Finch. You're the one training me to shoot, track, and incapacitate people."

"You know that's not what I meant, Ms. Shaw."

"Whatever," Shaw repeated. "How do you know all this stuff anyway?"

"Because I built it," Finch said simply.

Shaw glanced at John, who merely shrugged in return.

Shaw already knew Finch was a genius, but this was a little crazy, even for him.

"So what was your business trip really?"

Finch turned in his chair to face the computer monitors and began typing in a password. "Every year I meet with a representative from the government side of things. In utmost secrecy, of course. They don't know where I reside, what I do here. But they like to check in, in case the Machine is having an issue. Although, it never does."

"And what is it you do here, Harold?" Shaw said a little sarcastically.

Finch addressed Shaw directly. "I save people, Ms. Shaw. Mr. Reese and I. And I hope you'll join us."

"This is fucking insane."

"C'mon, Shaw," John interrupted. "You liked what we did today. We're helping people. If we don't, who will?"

"As of now, Ms. Stanton is taking care of the numbers we receive in Chicago. Mr. Reese will go to New York City tomorrow afternoon."

Shaw rubbed her temple.

Finch spoke softer. "I realize this is a lot to take in at once. Your junior year, too. But I am quite confident that you are adept and suited for this work. That's why you are here."

"Is anyone around here who they say they are?" Shaw muttered to herself, her mind flashing to Root.

"Speaking of," Finch said, glancing at John. "Mr. Reese told me about the alarming number of firearms discovered at the school the other day. It would be beneficial for us to look into it."

"And by us, you mean me."

"If you would."

Shaw shook her head in defeat. "Sure, Finch. I'm gonna go now, okay? Process."

She didn't wait for his answer, brushing past John and leaving the room, going to her own. She grabbed her phone and put on her jacket and boots, stomping back downstairs and quickly going out the front door. She stood on the stoop, breathing in the night air.

This was crazy, right? Finch worked for the government and built some kind of supercomputer that stops terrorists? John is some vigilante? They both kept this secret for so long, and Shaw was angry at herself for never discovering it on her own.

For some reason, Shaw wanted a cigarette.

She rarely smoked tobacco, as it was incredibly unhealthy, but for some reason she needed one. Badly.

She went back into the house to the kitchen, rifling in the back of a drawer until she found her hidden package and a Bic lighter. Shaw returned outside and sat on the front steps, removing a cigarette and placing it between her lips. She flicked the lighter on and lit the end of the cigarette, taking a long drag. Shaw put the lighter in her pocket and sat there, taking drags and blowing out the smoke, again and again. Her mind steadied slightly, and Shaw closed her eyes.

Her phone buzzed.

Root: _You know, smoking is bad for you._

Shaw looked up at the house across the street, and saw curtains moving in an upstairs window.

To Root: _fuck off_

Root: _:(_

To Root: _whatever i don't care_

Shaw waited, but Root didn't respond. Whatever.

What the hell was Shaw supposed to do in this situation? In her gut she knew she would help Finch and John. Believe it or not, Shaw liked helping that woman. She liked protecting her. And she supposed being apathetic to killing people made her a prime candidate for the job. It still didn't make up for the fact the boys kept her in the dark for so long. She wasn't a "child."

"Hey sweetie." Shaw jolted and saw Root right in front of her, smirking and wielding a bottle of tequila.

"It seemed like you needed this."

Shaw snatched it out of Root's hand and unscrewed the cap, taking a long drink.

"Want to talk about it?" Root said, sitting down next to Shaw.

Shaw didn't look at her, staring at the label on the bottle. "Talking is overrated."

Root chuckled. "Whatever you want, Sameen."

"Don't fucking patronize me," Shaw snapped.

Root only looked at her. "I'm not."

Shaw felt a twinge of _something,_ and knew Root was right. Shaw just shook her head, fiddling with her half smoked cigarette. After a moment, she held out the package of cigarettes to Root, silently offering her one.

Root grinned. "I'd rather share yours."

Shaw rolled her eyes, and put the package back down in a rather hostile manner. She put the cigarette back to her mouth and could feel Root's eyes on her lips.

She put out the cigarette and stood up abruptly and gave Root back the bottle. "I'll see you Monday."

Root looked crestfallen for a moment, then the look vanished, replaced by hesitation. "You could stay at my house tonight, if you want. If you don't want to be home."

Shaw paused. Her first reaction was fuck no, but when she thought about it, she really didn't want to be in the same house as Finch and John, feeling Finch attempting to give her space while still being irritatingly attentive and John attempting to be empathetic.

"Let me get some stuff. Wait here."

Shaw turned quickly and went inside, missing the way Root's face lit up.

* * *

Shaw went to her room and quietly put some clothes in a bag. She sat on her bed, sighing. Today was wild from start to finish. And the night wasn't even over yet. She grabbed a switchblade and her nano, putting them in her bag too. It was second nature, honestly.

Shaw silently went back downstairs and outside, where Root stood patiently. She picked up the package and shoved it in her bag. "Let's go."

Root smiled. "Hold my hand? Buddies always hold hands when crossing the street."

Shaw glared at her. "Don't make me change my mind."

Root only smiled and began walking, Shaw following. Root's hair flowed perfectly behind her and Shaw wondered, not for the first time, how Root managed that. _Must be the tequila._

When they reached Root's front door, she put a finger her lips. "We have to be quiet. My mother is asleep." Shaw nodded, and they silently entered the house.

It was dark, so Shaw couldn't make out much, but it seemed like a basic layout. Living room on the left, dining room on the right. Root led her up the staircase and Shaw smelled alcohol that wasn't coming from the bottle in Root's hand. Root opened a door on the left and turned the light on, Shaw following her in. There was a queen sized bed, a couch, and a large desk with a laptop and three computer monitors. Shaw was reminded of Finch's layout in the library.

"Four computers? Really?"

"A girl must accessorize."

Root placed the tequila on the desk and took off her heeled boots, putting them in her closet.

Shaw put her bag down on a chair and leaned against the wall. "So this is the enigmatic Groves residence."

Root waved her arm around. "See something you like?"

Shaw pointed at the tequila. "That." She went over and took another gulp. "We are _not_ sharing a bed, by the way."

Root pouted. "Have you never had a sleepover, Sameen?"

"Sure I have. Not with a nerd, though. I draw the line there." Shaw smiled into the bottle.

Root crossed her arms mockingly. "I'm insulted. Get out."

"Not a chance, nerd." Shaw walked to the bed and plopped down on the side Root wasn't occupying. She took her shoes off and spread out, putting the bottle on a bedside table.

Root got up, grabbing some sweats and a t-shirt from her closet. "I'll let you change."

She left the room, and Shaw was surprised at Root's restraint. She seized the opportunity and changed into her athletic shorts and a white tank top, then settled back on the bed. Root returned in a few minutes and whistled.

"Who knew you could make workout clothes look so good?"

Shaw threw a pillow at her with extreme accuracy, and Root fell with an "oof." She was up in a second, however, wielding the pillow and striking Shaw in the face surprisingly fast.

"This is not happening, kid," Shaw said and tackled Root to the ground, pinning her arms to her sides. They both breathed heavily into each other's faces, and Shaw stared at Root's lips, daring her to do something. But Root stayed still. Shaw could feel Root's breasts underneath her own, and she jerked up, releasing Root's arms and sitting in Root's computer chair, far from Root. Root sat up slowly, rubbing her wrists. Shaw didn't look at her. She could tell Root was turned on by her breathing, and Shaw ignored the fact that she was as well.

"Turn the light off when you want to," Root said, her voice slightly lower than normal. She got into bed and under the covers, taking her phone and tapping on it. Shaw was grateful for the out.

She got up and switched the light off. Street lamps gave the room a dull yellow tinge, and Shaw laid down on the couch, grabbing a blanket from the foot of Root's bed. She laid there, staring at the ceiling and trying not to look at Root's face illuminated by her phone screen. Shaw breathed deeply and closed her eyes, multiple thoughts swirling around her head.

Machines and cigarettes and Root.


	9. Identity Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the comments! it's really motivational haha i appreciate it. (i've never written smut before so pls bear with me) (also don't be mad at who it involves haha)

Shaw woke with a jolt, her eyes flying open and seeing the bright white of headlights. The shining lights pierced the shadows of the room and Shaw sat up quickly, instinctively reaching for a weapon. Her bag sat on the chair a few feet away, and Shaw crept to it, feeling for her gun and holding it close to her body. She moved towards the window, peering out down below. A car was parked in front of the Groves house, headlights blaring, but as soon as Shaw squinted to get a better look, the lights shut off as if they knew she was watching. Shaw frowned and pulled the computer chair near the window. She sat on the edge of the chair on alert, staring out the window and absentmindedly rubbing the grip of the gun.

The clock on Root's bedside table read 3:24 am. Shaw internally groaned but couldn't help wondering why some weirdo was stalking Root. She briefly considered waking the girl up, but decided against it. No point in freaking her out if it didn't turn out to be anything. 

The hours blended together and eventually Root stirred at 8:46 am. She slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. Shaw glanced down at her gun and thought about hiding it, then shrugged. Root knew she was packing heat. Maybe not to a sleepover, but fuck it. 

_Oh god, I just had a sleepover with Root._   _Where I pinned her down to the ground and stared at her lips. She has nice lips-_

"What's up, Sameen?"

"Oh, nothing. Just been up for five hours while some wacko sits outside your house." 

Root raised an eyebrow. "Are you my guard dog now?"

Shaw glared at her. "Who the fuck is that?"

Root got up and stretched, and Shaw tried not to stare at Root's nipples pressing against the fabric of her t-shirt. Root glanced at her and smirked, Shaw hastily averting her gaze. Root then moved to the window. 

"Shit."

"What?"

Root muttered something under her breath, then turned to face Shaw. "One of my mom's ex-boyfriends."

"Bad topic?" Shaw asked, though she sensed she knew the answer.

"You could say that," Root said, annoyed. "I'll go tell him to fuck off."

"Want me to come with?" Shaw said, gesturing to her gun. 

"Aw, Sam. I'd almost think you were worried about me." Root patted the top of Shaw's head and Shaw jerked away.

"I'm worried about some asshole disrupting my Sunday morning. Though shooting him _would_ make it a nice morning... Kept me up for five hours," Shaw grumbled. 

Root smiled and pulled on a jacket from her closet. "Don't worry. I can handle myself." 

With a parting wink (or attempt at a wink) Root left, and Shaw heard her go downstairs and open the front door. Shaw looked out the window and subconsciously tightened her grip on the gun when Root approached the car. She watched Root knock on the passenger window, then open the door and get in. Shaw furrowed her brow and strained to see what was happening in the car. It looked like Root was pointing something at the guy. The exchange only lasted about a minute before Root stepped out of the car and it was driving away, rather hurriedly in Shaw's opinion. Root stood outside for a moment longer, then retreated back in the house. Shaw put her gun back in her bag, and shook her head at the fact that Root didn't even bat an eye at waking up to the sight of Shaw holding a firearm.

Root came back in the bedroom and hung up her jacket. 

"Want some breakfast?"

Shaw picked up her bag and moved to the doorway. "Make some pancakes. It can be the start of you paying me back for my lack of sleep."

"Oh, Sameen," Root said sweetly. "Anything for you."

* * *

 

As Shaw shoveled banana pancakes in her mouth, she questioned Root about the ex. "So who was that?"

Root rolled her eyes, putting more batter on the griddle. "Some dick my mom went out with a few times but can't take no for an answer. I think I was persuasive this time, though." She dipped a finger in the pool of syrup on Shaw's plate and sucked it slowly, releasing it with a pop. 

Shaw inhaled a piece of pancake and coughed, her face burning as Root grinned mischievously. 

"So," Shaw continued after she took a drink of juice. "Why was he here at three in the morning?"

Root shrugged. "Should probably get a restraining order."

Shaw conceded, and stood up, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "Well, I should go. John leaves in a few hours; gotta say my goodbyes."

Root pouted. "Will I at least see you at Tomas' tonight?"

Shaw frowned. "Fuck, I totally forgot about that. How did you know I was invited?"

Root leaned against the counter. "Educated guess."

Shaw shrugged and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll see. I told him yeah, but I dunno. I'm pretty tired."

Root nodded. "My faithful bodyguard."

Shaw flipped her off and headed to the front door, Root following. They stopped at the doorway, Shaw awkwardly standing there, not sure what to say. Root deftly kissed her cheek, then ran her finger over her own lips. 

"You had some syrup."

Shaw rolled her eyes and left without a word, rubbing her cheek and feeling the ghost of Root's eyes and lips on her.

As Shaw entered her own house, she dropped her bag on the kitchen counter and went straight to John's room. He glanced at her as she came in.

"You know, that was a dick move. I'm leaving in two hours."

"It was a dick move of you two to keep an AI a secret from me," Shaw countered.

John held up his hands. "I don't want to fight. Who knows when I'll see you again."

"As if that city or its thugs could kill you," Shaw scoffed, plopping down on John's bed.

John half-smiled. "You're right, but you never know."

"Shut up. I hate complimenting you."

John returned to his meticulous packing. He spent the next hour doing last minute checks, Shaw occasionally throwing clothes at his head just because. At eleven-thirty he finally deemed himself ready, and the two retreated to the basement, grabbing a couple beers and chilling on the couch.

"Are you excited for junior year? Has it been good so far?"

Shaw grunted. "It's okay. Should get more interesting though."

"We _are_ sorry, you know. Harold and I. But you're gonna kill it."

"Like I killed Sean Gould?" Shaw said under her breath. 

John stared at her, his eyes piercing. "You're gonna be fine. You and I were made for this shit. You, me, and Kara. I know you don't know her. But I also know none of us particularly care about taking out the trash."

"Yeah," Shaw said. "I don't feel different."

"I didn't really, either," John said. "Harold almost had a fit my first time. 'Mr. Reese, are you all right? You just shot that man in the head. Are you all right?' Meanwhile, his voice shook like hell over the comms."

"I'm surprised Finch has it in him to do this."

John rubbed his chin. "I think he feels guilty about something. I don't know what, though."

"If I find out, I'll let you know," Shaw said amusedly. 

John nodded at her, a small smile on his face. "I'll miss you, Sam."

"Shut up."

At twelve precisely, John, Finch, and Shaw stood in the driveway, John's bags in the trunk of his Audi. John and Harold shared a few words that Shaw intentionally didn't listen in on, and a brief embrace. John then turned to her, and smiled. 

"Call me whenever you're in over your head and need some help."

"As if," Shaw smirked. "You call me if you get too cocky."

They hugged for a few moments, then John stepped back and got in the front seat, putting on his sunglasses. He gave one last wave, then backed out of the driveway and was gone. Shaw momentarily felt a little odd, a pang of something, then it was gone as well.

Finch limped back inside, probably to the library to grieve the move of his favorite person. Shaw's phone buzzed. 

Root: _That was oddly touching._

To Root:  _stop being a creep_

Shaw went back inside and decided to work out until a few hours before the party, so she would have time to shower. She changed into just a sports bra and girl boxers, then went to the punching bag and began hitting it, working up a sweat quickly. 

Perspiration stung her eyes as she beat the bag, knuckles and muscles burning. 

_I'm basically replacing John. I'm gonna be some kind of vigilante. Maybe less dark and stormy. Okay, still dark. And stormy. Whatever._

_Me and Harold working together? That should be interesting._

Shaw paused and sighed. 

_Don't think about it for now. Get fucking wasted tonight._

* * *

 

At nine-thirty, Carter pulled up to Shaw's house.

"Thanks for the ride," Shaw said.

"Sure," Carter grinned. "Ready for a senior party? At  _Tomas'_?"

Shaw hit her on the shoulder.

"What, bitch? You look dressed to kill."

Shaw smirked. "I know."

She wore a tight black dress that didn't leave a lot to imagination. Carter wore a slim purple dress that accentuated her curves. They both knew they looked hot, and Shaw was glad she had such good taste in friends.

"How have you been, though? Sorry I haven't texted you. AP Lit is already piling on the work," Carter said.

Shaw was silent for a moment. "Fine. John left today. I'm sure Finch is still crying in his library."

"Shit, I meant to text you about that. I'm sorry, girl."

Shaw shrugged. "It's not like it's for forever."

Carter glanced at her. "True, but still."

"It's fine, Carter."

"Alright, let's get real messed up tonight."

Shaw grinned. "That we can agree on."

Carter parked on the street, and they could hear the pumping bass already.

"Fuck yes," they said in unison, and headed towards the front door, their heels clicking against the pavement rapidly.

Shaw grabbed a bottle of vodka the second she spotted the drinks table, and mixed Carter a drink. Carter took it gratefully and yelled in her ear, "I'm gonna go find Cal."

Shaw slapped her ass playfully as she walked away, and poured herself a healthy amount of straight vodka. 

Four cups and several dances in, she felt an arm snake around her waist. 

"Ro- oh hey, Tomas," Shaw slurred.

"Hey, Shaw," Tomas murmured. "Having a good time?"

"It's not as good as my party was," Shaw said, and Tomas nodded. "Of course not."

"But it's still pretty damn good," Shaw finished, taking another chug from her cup. 

Tomas smiled. "I'm glad you think so. It took some planning." He leaned close, his lips brushing her ear. "All in the hope you would... come."

Shaw bit her lip, her face feeling just a little bit hotter. "Have a place we can go?"

"Of course," Tomas whispered, and took her arm as he led her up the stairs. Shaw thought she caught a glimpse of a leather jacket and brown hair before she was swept into a bedroom and pushed against the door, the lock clicking in place. 

Tomas kissed her neck, his body pushed up against hers, and Shaw's legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He picked her up and laid her on the bed, leaning over her and kissing her breasts. Shaw turned so he could unzip her dress, and soon she was only in her underwear. He pulled off his shirt and pants, and Shaw briefly admired his body before he was back on top of her, kissing her smoothly and Shaw held back a moan. For a split second she imagined a brunette pinning her down like this, licking and scratching. Shaw snapped out of it, blaming it on the vodka, and could feel Tomas pressing against her underwear. She quickly got rid of both of their remaining clothing. She flipped him over and he gasped in surprise, but she ignored it as she straddled him. 

"Here," he muttered as he handed her a condom. She opened it and slid it onto him quickly, then tossed it to the ground as he pushed inside. 

Shaw could tell he wanted to go slowly, but she didn't. She fucked him hard and fast, feeling his hands on her breasts and coming a few moments after he did. 

She rolled off of him, running her hand through her hair and lying there for a minute. Tomas breathed heavily beside her and moved to stroke her cheek, but she sat up abruptly and began getting dressed. The alcohol slowed her movements, but she managed to get her dress on and motioned for him to zip it up. He pulled the zipper up almost tenderly, and Shaw could feel herself losing patience. When he finished, she turned to face him. 

"Look, Tomas. I like you. But this? This isn't a  _thing._ I thought you knew that."

Tomas only smiled. "I gotcha, Shaw. Good time only."

Shaw nodded, then unlocked the door and left. She slowly went down the stairs, holding onto the wall slightly. She took out her phone and attempted to put in her passcode three times. On the fourth, she ran smack into someone and dropped her phone.

"What the fuck, watch where you're going!"

A pale hand handed her phone back to her.

"You look like you're having a good time."

Shaw looked up and saw Root staring at her, steeliness in her eyes she had never seen before.

"Uh, yeah. Hi."

Root only looked at her, and Shaw felt a chill run through her body. Root wore a deep red tank top with a leather jacket, jeans, and heeled boots, and Shaw felt the chill being replaced with heat.

Root leaned in to her ear, and Shaw flashed back to Tomas. "At least tell me you thought of me when you  _fucked_ him." Root bit Shaw's earlobe and Shaw's eyes closed, her eyes rolling back a little. 

When she opened them again, Root was gone.

 

 


	10. Shaw Should Learn to Drive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things before you read on:  
> 1\. this is a root x shaw fic i promise. however, it's also very focused on shaw as a character and she makes her own decisions (and they're not all about root). easy is no fun, right?  
> 2\. shaw is sixteen. she's impulsive. maybe even selfish. point is, this shaw is different from show!shaw because she's younger. did show!shaw sleep with tomas? no. did teenager hsau!shaw? yes. was it a good choice? who knows. this is also from shaw's perspective so a) she doesn't know everything and b) her pov is of course biased.  
> 3\. i apologize if going into the chapter you weren't expecting graphic sex scenes, m/f or not. i have amended the rating of the story. i am really sorry about that.  
> 4\. please comment if you have an issue! i'm really open to everything and you guys have been amazing support and motivators, so thank you.

Head pounding, Shaw hesitated before sending the text.

It's not like she and Root were a  _thing._ What is it with people and their emotions? Sex is sex. And she and Root definitely did not have sex. But she and Tomas did. And Root seemed pretty pissed. How did Root even know? How does that girl know everything?

To Root:  _ready_

Root probably didn't even want to give Shaw a ride now. But it wasn't Shaw's fault Root expected more than Shaw gave. Right?

Shaw groaned. Her head hurt like hell, and the aspirin she gulped down twenty minutes ago was barely setting in. Shaw couldn't remember how much she drank last night, but she knew it was too much.

Shaw stared at her phone. 7:13 am. Too late to catch the bus now.

Shaw sighed. Sex with Tomas was good and she didn't regret it, but she wished Root hadn't seen her directly afterwards. She had seemed angry but there were some mixed signals in there and Shaw couldn't figure it out.

Ten minutes later, Root's garage door opened and Shaw hurried over to the BMW. She opened the passenger door and got in and Root began driving, faster than normal. The silence in the car was stifling.

"Look, Root-" Shaw began.

Root held a finger up to her lips. "Don't say a word."

"I just-"

Root slammed on the brakes and the seatbelt almost choked Shaw. Struggling for breath, she watched as Root leaned over, opened her door, unbuckled Shaw, and shoved her out of the car. Shaw tumbled onto the asphalt, instinctively rolling and protecting her limbs. Root threw Shaw's backpack out of the car, shut the door, and drove away.

Shaw could only gape as her ride faded in the distance.

After a few moments of shock, she got up slowly, wincing. Luckily, her phone was undamaged and Shaw looked at the time. 7:26 am. School was still a mile away. 

_Fuck me._

* * *

Chest heaving and lungs burning, Shaw entered US History at 7:03 am. The class snickered at her, out of breath, hair askew and bloody scrapes on her hands and cheek. Shaw glared at them and the class silenced immediately. 

"Ms. Shaw. This is your first warning for tardiness."

"You can shove it up your ass, Collier," Shaw muttered and walked to her seat.

"Excuse me?" Collier said, his face stiff.

"Yes, sir," Shaw said, sitting down and staring him down. 

Collier took a deep breath and turned back to the blackboard. "As I was saying..."

Shaw tuned him out and clenched her fists. Root fucking dumped her on the side of the road.

Martine grinned. "What the fuck happened to you?"

Shaw didn't even look at her. "If you want to keep your fingers, I'd recommend not talking to me right now."

Martine only shrugged and turned back to Collier, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

Shaw made a mental note to interrogate her about the guns later. And to not be nice about it.

* * *

 

The rest of the day passed without incident, Shaw at a constant simmer. She forced herself to get involved in Carter's excitement over hooking up with Cal, and only mentioned that she and Tomas had as well. When Carter asked for more details, she shook her off and changed the subject quickly. It only reminded her of a rough push, falling, and skin against rock.

When Coding rolled around Shaw braced herself for the worst, but Root completely ignored her, tapping away on her laptop. It was as if she exuded coldness, and Shaw shivered as she passed by and sat at her computer. The teacher began explaining the lesson and Shaw tried to listen but it was all meaningless to her. She took out her phone and went on Twitter, scrolling through tweets and occasionally favoriting when she saw this-

@thekoroa: best damn thief in the world #rollingindough

with a picture of Tomas smoking a blunt and dangling what looked like expensive jewelry in front of his face. 

Shaw's eyes widened. No way. 

Some rich guy in Pennsylvania had made the news the other month screaming about how his precious rare diamond necklace had been stolen. They were estimated to be worth two million dollars.

She nudged Cole and showed him the picture.

"Holy shit. How stupid is he?"

Shaw frowned. "He's not. He would never do this. Maybe take a picture of it, but definitely not post it. If he's professional enough to steal million dollar jewels he would never post a photo of it. No criminal in his right mind would."

Cole shrugged. "Then he was hacked."

Shaw's head whipped around to Root, who was typing on her computer with the smallest grin on her face, and Shaw knew she had been listening the whole time. What the fuck.

"Can we talk ab"out how fucked this school is? The guns and now this  _and_  the perky psycho over there?" Shaw said. 

"Who would've thought suburbia would nurture criminals and gangsters."

Root's voice carried over to them.

"Monsters love small towns."

Shaw turned to her with just a puzzled expression on her face, then turned back to Cole. 

"Can you come over after school tomorrow? I want to tell you something because I think you could help me."

Cole smiled. "Sure. I haven't been over to Finch's in forever."

"Yeah, yeah. You guys are like in nerdtopia."

"He's cool, Shaw," Cole said defensively. 

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Be there." She paused for a moment, then said, "What's going to happen to Tomas?"

"Jeez, I have no idea. The police are gonna be on his ass, not to mention the guy who hired him and the guy he stole from."

Shaw glanced down at her phone again and saw the tweet had been deleted. But it was too late for Tomas.

The bell rang and Shaw got up, stomping over to Root and grabbing her arm.

"You might want to let go of me."

"You just ruined his life. You may even have just killed him. All for what?  _Jealousy?"_

Root smiled coldly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. And Shaw? Not everything revolves around you. Let go of me."

Shaw glared at her and squeezed tighter, then released Root's arm. 

"Still want a ride, sweetie?" Root mocked.

Shaw scoffed. "Fuck off."

She stalked out of the classroom, swinging her bag over her shoulder and feeling the need to punch something, anything. 

Tomas was going to be in so much trouble. He'd be arrested, and there was probably a hit on him already. How could Root do something so drastic? Learning information was one thing, exposing it was another. Especially since there was a life at stake. All because Shaw slept with someone else? 

Fucking crazy. 

Finch: _Ms. Shaw, please return home as quickly as possible._

Shaw's pulse quickened. Her stomach felt heavy and Shaw knew what was coming.

She sprinted home, her lungs feeling like they'd been shredded and her bag bumping against her shoulder blade every step. When she burst through the door, she tossed her bag on the counter and hurried to the library.

Finch sat with three books, spines up. He looked gravely at Shaw.

"We just received a new number."

"Tomas," Shaw breathed out.

Finch nodded. "Tomas Koroa's number came at 1:48 pm today."

Shaw felt like she was frozen in place. "What do we do?"

"We save his life," Finch said simply.

"This is all my fault," Shaw muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"If I hadn't- If I had just-" Shaw turned and punched the library wall, her knuckles splitting and blood escaping from the crevices. 

"Ms. Shaw. This is not your wrongdoing. Mr. Koroa made a poor judgment and decided to steal rare jewels. Unless you helped him with this endeavor you can hardly say it was your fault."

Shaw shook her head. "What do we do now?"

"Give me your phone."

Shaw handed it to him and Finch tapped on it rapidly, then gave it back. "You can now bluejack people's phones. See their calls, texts, contacts, emails. Start gathering information so we can determine who is the threat. In this situation I believe it is safe to say that Mr. Koroa is not the perpetrator."

Shaw nodded in assent. "Should I start at his house?"

"Do whatever you believe is best. Ms. Shaw, I have been training you for a couple years now and I know you can handle yourself. You must trust yourself as well. I will stay here and check the financial records of the man who originally owned the diamonds."

Shaw took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's do this."

"Oh, and please wrap that hand first. It would hardly do to have you injured at this time. And here's an earpiece."

Shaw rolled her eyes but took it and went to the bathroom, dowsing her hand in hydrogen peroxide and hissing at the sting, then applied ointment and wrapped her hand in an ace bandage. She ran upstairs and tucked two guns in her waistband as well as a switchblade. 

Shaw groaned. She would have to run or bike there. Now was the time for a license.

Shaw left the house, keeping a brisk pace to Tomas's. When she arrived, she saw cop cars all along the street and she cursed. Time to act. 

Shaw ran up to the front door, knocking hard and rapidly. The door swung open and she almost punched a cop in the face.

"Please leave the premises, ma'am, this is an investigation."

"Officer, please. My boyfriend, is he okay? Can I just see him for a second?" Shaw pouted, her face muscles hating every second of it.

The policeman hesitated, then sighed. "One second, okay? Just to say hi and bye."

"Thank you so much!" 

The cop went inside and Shaw took out her phone, syncing it with the cop's cell and Tomas's as soon as it came within range.

"Shaw?"

"Babe! Are you okay?" Shaw hugged him tightly, her face next to his ear as she whispered, "You're in danger. I'm going to help you, just stay calm and be cooperative." She released him and looked at the police officer. "I can't believe he did such a thing."

The officer shrugged. "You know teenage boys."

Shaw nodded, but looked at Tomas, needing him to understand.

Tomas smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry Sam, I've got this under control. Misunderstanding. But I'll take any advice I can get."

"I would stay at home in your room and answer questions people ask you. It'll be easier that way." Shaw stared at him intensely, and Tomas gave a small nod.

"All right, off you go." 

Shaw tearfully said goodbye then walked down the driveway, looking through her phone as she went through the two men's information.

Tomas's phone was clean, no suspicious contacts or conversation. That's what smart criminals did. The cop's had a few pieces of information about how severe the situation was. They'd keep him in the house for a while until they found out more, like who he worked with and where the jewelry was now.

She called Finch.

"There are cops all over his house. Might be a federal investigation."

"Yes, those diamonds he stole are quite valuable... I found information on the jewelry's previous owner. Lucas Price, a wealthy businessman with mob connections. Two hours ago he wired twenty thousand dollars to an account belonging to a Melissa Thompson. We can guess she is the threat. However, I've been unable to find much on her. Most likely a fake name."

"You'd know all about those, huh, Harold?" Shaw smirked. "Well, unless Melissa is about to kill Tomas herself she hired people to do it for her. Muscle. We need to figure out who they are."

"Let's see..." Shaw heard computer clicks and then her phone buzzed and she received two photos.

"Thompson wired money to these two gentlemen an hour ago. Look for them, and please be safe."

Shaw looked down at the two headshots and grinned. "Don't you worry about me, Finch," and hung up.

Shaw couldn't explain it, but this saving people business felt better than anything she'd ever experienced. The thrill of danger was something she thrived on. She could channel her energy into precise deadly movements. And though she would never admit it, having a clear goal and endgame made her life and job much easier. Save Tomas. Mission accomplished. 

Shaw knew the men wouldn't strike while it was daytime, especially with police crawling all over the place, so she headed back home to rest for a little. When she finally got there, she plopped on her bed and closed her eyes.

Her phone buzzed. Of course. Tomas received a text. 

unknown: _W_ _here is the necklace? You have until midnight to tell me._

Shaw watched the conversation, her muscles tensing.

Tomas:  _I don't have them. What will happen at midnight?_

unknown:  _You're a smart boy. You can figure it out._

Shaw texted Finch the number. He responded quickly.

Finch: _It's a burner phone. It won't lead to Ms. Thompson directly, if we're assuming this is her._

"Yeah, we are assuming that," Shaw muttered. 

Tomas:  _I don't have it, I swear._

unknown:  _I'll find it eventually, with or without you. After tonight, if your answer_ _hasn't changed, it will be without._

* * *

Night fell and Shaw slipped into new black clothes and put on a ski mask as well, then filled a small bag with weapons, rope, and a few flash grenades, courtesy of John. 

John. 

To John:  _first solo mission. wish me luck_

To John: _oh wait- i don't need it_

John:  _i'll wish you luck anyway- be safe dumbass_

Shaw grinned and pocketed her phone, then yelled to Finch that she was leaving. 

She got on her bike and quietly rode to Tomas's, her eyes constantly on the lookout for the two thugs. A few houses down from Tomas's she ditched the bike and crept on foot, sneaking up to the side of Tomas's house and climbing up to his window, using the rope. Her scraped hands burned and Shaw briefly flashed back to rolling on pavement and hitting brick wall with her fist. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She silently opened the window and jumped inside, startling Tomas. 

"Who are you? Shaw, is that you?" 

Shaw put a finger to her lips. The house was quiet. Too quiet, for a house with police guards. She took a flash grenade out of her bag and went to the bedroom door, listening. She heard barely perceptible footsteps and she threw open the door, flinging the grenade out and shutting the door immediately, then shouted, "Get down!"

She and Tomas huddled on the ground as a loud bang echoed through the house. Almost immediately after, Shaw opened the door and saw the two men on the ground with silenced guns, but quickly getting up. 

She didn't hesitate and shot them both in the knees, guessing that's what John would do. They groaned and Shaw pistol-whipped both of them, knocking them unconscious. She went down the stairs, seeing a few policemen littered around the house, presumably dead. After making a full house sweep, she went back to Tomas. 

"Call 911. Say you were attacked. Everything else should be figured out soon. But don't worry, you're not in danger anymore."

"Holy shit. And I thought I had a secret life." 

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Don't pull this shit again. Even if you are good at it."

Shaw climbed out the window and began making her way down the rope. When she hit the ground she untied it and ran to her bike, then pedaled full speed back home.

When she got in, Finch was sitting in the kitchen with a mug of tea.

"Oh thank heavens. How did it go?"

"Kneecapped the two guys. They killed all the cops. Tomas should be safe for now, if Price and Thompson are the only threats."

Finch slowly nodded, taking a sip of his tea. "I'll take care of the rest. Go to bed, Ms. Shaw."

"Night, Harold." 

Shaw trekked upstairs and stripped down to just underwear, then laid on her bed.

She could get used to this, this saving people stuff.

Shaw hesitated, then sent a text.

To Root:  _u did something_ _really dumb. i know u think i did too. but tomas isn't anything. why i'm explaining this to u i have no idea_

She laid there, her phone on her chest and her arms crossed and Shaw felt more at home than she ever had. Finch was right. This was what was supposed to happen. This was the life she was meant for, not scrounging on the streets and stealing food and fighting for no reason. This was the point of it all.

Root: _I_ _s that the best apology I'm going to get?_

To Root:  _yep_

Root:  _Fine, Sameen. But we're not completely fine yet._

To Root:  _duh we're both still mad_

Root:  _Lol okay. Goodnight see you tomorrow morning_

To Root:  _ya try not to shove me out of a moving vehicle_

Root:  _Oh please, it wasn't moving._

Shaw rolled her eyes and went to put her phone on the bedside table when she saw Tomas got a text. _I should probably unsync the phones,_ Shaw thought but glanced at the text anyway.

unknown:  _Tell your friend I say hello._ _  
_

Shaw frowned. 

Whatever. It'll be fine.

* * *

The next morning the news was abuzz with the previous night's events. Apparently, some big lawyer was notified and paid a large sum to represent Tomas, citing attempted murder and traumatizing events, and he got off with community service. Shaw couldn't believe it, but she had a feeling she knew who contacted the lawyer and Finch's tranquility at breakfast only supported her theory.

"Ms. Thompson's accounts have all been closed and the money transferred. She appears to have disappeared."

"Probably couldn't take failure," Shaw smirked.

"Until the next time," Finch said quietly.

Shaw grabbed her bag and headed out the door to Root's driveway, texting that she was ready. 

The BMW came out as per usual, and Shaw slumped into the front seat.

"Busy night?"

Shaw grunted.

"Me too."

 

 

 


	11. Burning Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a long time i know, but life's been so busy!! (and tbh i kinda have writer's block) sorry it's kinda filler

"Holy shit, Shaw."

"I know."

Cole's face was the picture of disbelief, awe, and confusion all at once. 

"Finch created- a fricking- a fricking- all-seeing machine that-" Cole decided to just give up on speaking and shook his head.

Shaw nodded. "Yep."

There was silence as Cole processed what was probably the most mindblowing thing he'd ever hear in his life.

"He's gonna be real mad when he finds out I told you, but to be honest, you can help us. You're pretty smart and resourceful."

Cole grinned. "Was that a compliment I heard?"

Shaw swatted his head, and Cole laughed. "Seriously though, I'm so down for this. Sign me the hell up. I can't believe you live with a freaking genius and don't even care."

Shaw shrugged. "Finch is Finch."

"And it all happens in this library..." Cole trailed off, caressing the spine of a book on one of the many shelves.

"Okay, please stop fangirling over Finch. It's creeping me out." 

"Sorry," Cole said, but Shaw knew he wasn't. She rolled her eyes, then waved her hand to the door.

"Kay bye, nerd. That's all I wanted to tell you. I'll let you know if anything new happens."

"'That's all,' she says," Cole muttered. "Only the greatest invention of humankind..." He shuffled out of the library, still shaking his head, and Shaw mentally facepalmed. Why was she friends with such nerds?

Shaw also wondered why she didn't tell Carter or Grice about the Machine. It felt wrong, keeping such a big secret from her best friend, but Shaw didn't think it was right to tell her, either.

And God forbid Root found out about the Machine. She would probably hack it and control it for her own doings. After all, she leaked Tomas's information without so much as a thought of the consequences.

Speaking of, Tomas changed schools effective immediately (and by immediately, in two days). Something about "dangerous environments." He was probably gonna move towns, too. Shaw didn't particularly care. Sure, he was a good lay that one time, but they were never really friends. He came up to her during gym today, trying to thank her, but Shaw didn't even acknowledge it and he understood. Secret identities and all that. He would know, being a thief.  _Former_ thief.

Shaw spent the rest of the afternoon and evening doing homework, working out, and cleaning her guns. At around eight, Finch came home and went in the library. Shaw followed and braced herself.

"I told Cole about the Machine."

Finch's mouth formed a perfect circle, and Shaw thought he might have a heart attack right then and there. She tightened her grip on her cell phone in her pocket just in case she had to call an ambulance.

"You certainly get to the point, don't you, Ms. Shaw?"

Shaw shrugged. 

Finch stared at her. "Need I remind you the seriousness of this situation? What if, perhaps, he tells someone? And they tell someone else? A huge catastrophic chain reaction that leads all sorts of bad people to me, to us?"

"He won't tell anyone. I trust him. And you know how rare that is," Shaw said.

"Mr. Cole is, I'm sure, of trustworthy spirit, but loose lips can kill."

"So can I."

Finch shakily sat down in a chair.

"Look, Finch. It's done. You can either tremble with paranoia for a while or deal with the fact that someone else knows and can now help us with the numbers. You know Cole is gifted." Shaw leaned back against a shelf.

"That is true, but you should have consulted me first."

"I know. But I knew you'd say no."

"For good reason," Finch muttered, but sighed in resignation.

"For what it's worth, he totally geeked out. You're on an even higher pedestal. I'm surprised he didn't come right on the spot."

Finch's face contorted in disgust. "That was not an image I needed, Ms. Shaw."

"Me either, Finch."

"Please leave me for a while... I need some time." Finch turned to his computer and began nervously tapping the keyboard.

"Sure," Shaw said and went outside, sitting on her front stoop. Maybe it was a bad idea to tell Cole without asking Finch, but Shaw has never really asked for permission.

Root:  _Want to go for a drive?_ _  
_

Shaw glanced at the house across from her. The window to Root's room was lit, and Shaw imagined Root staring at her through the curtains and seeing her get the text.

To Root:  _why not_

After about a minute, the familiar sound of the garage door rung out and Shaw crossed the street. She quickly got in the BMW and rolled down the window, letting the cool night air in.

"Let's go then," Root said with a smirk.

The car jolted out of the driveway and soon the two of them were speeding along the suburban roads and up to Ridgecrest, a long and windy road up a mountain that had a fantastic view. Root drove insanely fast but with precision, and Shaw's heartbeat increased with her smile. Now _this_ was fun.

Cars honked as Root blew past them, but Root drove with an easy smile and a loose relaxed demeanor. She looked hot, Shaw had to admit.

The breeze ruffling her hair, Shaw stuck her hand out of the car window and closed her eyes.

They reached the top of the mountain in a a short span of time, and Root parked the car. 

The sky was changing rapidly in the night, the sunset painting an array of colors across the heavens. 

"You look like you enjoyed yourself."

Shaw grunted. 

Root's expression changed in an instant then.

"Shaw, I am the one who keeps trying to build this fucking bridge you're so anxious to burn down."

Shaw's brow furrowed. "What the fuck-"

"Don't speak." Root's eyes flashed with anger. " _I_ am the one who keeps reaching out. Even after you do the most idiotic, childish things.  _I_ continue trying. I build this fucking bridge but it's like you're a goddamn self destructive flamethrower that needs to destroy anything friendly."

"Like I'm the childish one here? Root, you fucking almost killed someone because you were  _jealous_ _!_ "

Root scoffed. "You have no idea. No clue."

"About  _what_?" Shaw snarled, moving closer to Root's face.

"If you continue this detached act, this pushing people away shit, you'll have no one. No one."

"You're crazy."

Root smiled then, a dangerous slow smile that said 'I know something you don't'. 

"Maybe. But I'm absolutely fine being alone. And as much as you try to hide it, you need people. You need them so badly. And yet you maintain this act, this forced charade of pretending not to like anyone, to have no feelings because you're afraid!"

Shaw's breath hitched. "I don't have feelings, Root. And fuck you."

Shaw trembled, and she didn't know if it was with anger or despair. "I don't have any fucking feelings!"

Root's features softened and Shaw saw something click into place in her brain.

"That's why you're like this. You don't experience emotions like everyone else and that frightens you. Not being normal."

Root moved to touch Shaw's face but Shaw angrily brushed her off.

"Not being normal _is_ normal. But Sameen, you better stop this facade with me if you want to continue this whatever we're doing. Because I'm fucking done trying if you won't."

Shaw took a deep breath and looked out the window. The lights of the nearby city sparkled in the distance, and the sky was a violent shade of navy and purple. 

"You don't fucking know me."

"Fine, Sameen," Root said bitterly, turning back to the steering wheel and hands moving to the keys in the ignition. "Keep being an insolent child-"

Shaw clenched her fists and whipped back around to Root. Shaw grabbed the front of her jacket and kissed her, and swallowed Root's words like a poison and a panacea all at once. Root's lips burned and Shaw bit down, tasting blood, and eventually as the kiss continued, salty tears and Shaw didn't know if they were hers or Root's. Root's fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, and Shaw kissed and kissed and kissed.

 


	12. Second Base and Second Number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been soooo long and i apologize. thank you for all the comments!

Shaw's never been a particularly deep thinker, preferring to focus on facts, problems, solutions, and the quickest way to get shit done. Her efficient methods often caused Finch to protest in disapproval as they would run through possible situations and conflicts. (Before she knew about the Machine, Finch would propose a simulation of sorts and John and Shaw would have to figure out how to get a person out of a tight spot. In fact, Shaw wondered how she had never figured out what Finch was training them for. It was quite transparent looking back on it.)

"We can't just shoot the man, Ms. Shaw!"

"Why not? He's the perp! He's terrible and the world would be better off without him!"

Finch would then say something about how all lives are relevant and blah blah blah and Shaw would begrudgingly accept his alternative, peaceful plan. Not because she thought his ideas were better than hers, but because she got annoyed and didn't feel like arguing anymore.

Point is, Shaw was a quick thinker. In this specific situation, the problem was that Root wouldn't stop talking about  _feelings_ (ugh). Solution: get Root to stop talking. Method: kiss the girl.

Now, with Root's tongue in her mouth and her hand on her breast, Shaw thought that this was the worst option she could have chosen. Absolute worst. Who cares if Root's the best kisser Shaw has ever encountered? So what if Shaw could feel her whole body tingling in pleasure from just the slight ministrations Root was doing with her hand? What does it matter if the sounds coming out of Root's mouth made Shaw want to push her down against the seats and--

This was an awful plan. The worst. 

And yet, why did Shaw let it continue?

Her hands crept under Root's shirt and she could feel Root shudder. Her fingers lightly traced over ribs, then worked their way to the clasp of Root's bra. Shaw felt Root smile against her mouth, and Shaw couldn't help but smile slightly too.

She managed to unclip the bra and brought her hands to Root's chest, hesitating for a moment then just going for it, rolling a nipple between her fingers and hearing Root's moan as a reward. Before Shaw could do it again, she heard the faint sound of a reverberating bass and shitty pop music.

Fuck. Shaw sat up in her seat immediately, hands out from Root's shirt and clenched into fists as she tensed. Root looked at her in confusion, then they both saw the source of the noise: a van filled with teenagers also looking for a good time on the mountain. The smell of weed already permeated the air.

Shaw breathed deeply. It's fine. It's fine. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to tame it. On her side, Root was reclasping her bra and then rested her hands on the steering wheel. 

"Shaw! Oh. Hi, Samantha."

Shaw sighed. "Hey, Grice."

He beamed. Leon came up next to him, a blunt in his hand. "Hey ladies."

"What're you doing here?" Grice asked.

Shaw took the blunt from Leon's hand and took a long drag. "Smoking."

Leon glared and went to take it back, but Shaw passed it to Root, who looked at it with annoyance but smoked some anyway.

"We were just leaving," Root said. She gave the blunt back to Shaw, who almost finished it, and gave the rest to Leon, who gave her the finger in return. 

"See ya boys," Shaw drawled, as Root put the car in reverse and began the drive down the mountain.

Shaw tried not to stare at Root as they sped down the road. She definitely didn't see the way the wind swirled Root's hair into a hurricane, the way her fingers tapped the steering wheel, the way she bit her lip and the way her face was still flushed. 

Faster than expected, Root parked in her driveway and the two girls sat there. They stared at each other's lips and slowly moved closer until "Bill Nye the Science Guy" blared from Shaw's pocket.

"Fuck," she said, taking her phone out. "It's Finch."

Root leaned back in her seat, looking disappointed, but waved her hand. "By all means."

Shaw accepted the call and put it up to her ear.

"What's the problem?"

"We have received a new number, Ms. Shaw. Please extract yourself from Ms. Groves' convertible and come inside."

Shaw whipped around and glared at her own house. She hung up.

"I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Root smirked. "See you, Sameen."

Shaw got out of the car and walked across the street, forcing herself not to look back and see undoubtedly a devilish look on Root's face.

* * *

"Who we got?"

Finch frowned. "I will choose to overlook that grammatically dreadful sentence." He taped a mugshot to the glass board in the library. 

Shaw's eyes widened. "Cole."

"Yes, Ms. Shaw. I do recall informing you that enlightening Mr. Cole could put him in grave danger," Finch said, his voice getting steadily higher pitched. "I refuse to let your error cost this intelligent young man his life."

Shaw put her hands up. "Who says this is connected to me?"

"The odds are in your favor."

"Look, I don't like seeing Cole's number up either. He's my friend. I'm not trying to take the blame off of me. But I think we should look into all the angles. How did my telling him affect his life so suddenly and dangerously?"

"I don't know, Ms. Shaw; all I know is that something did." Finch sat down in his chair. 

"Well, let's think of a plan. First thing: do we tell him?"

Finch turned even paler. "I didn't even think of that. I'm not accustomed to our numbers knowing what a number even is." He paused, then came to a conclusion. "I would recommend keeping this to ourselves for now."

Shaw furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you sure? He could have an idea why his number is up. Isn't self awareness good?"

"I'd rather not alarm him and send him into a panic. Let me organize a digital footprint and we will go from there."

Shaw nodded. "Fine. I'll do some recon."

Grabbing a couple of mini cameras on her way out, she went to her room and took out her guns, then hopped on her bike and pedaled to Cole's house. She really needed to learn how to drive.

Cole's mom owned the electronics store in town. They lived in the apartment above the store. It was closed now, so Shaw locked her bike to a nearby rack and sat on a bench across from the store. The lights in the apartment were on, and Shaw could see Cole's shadow in his room, sitting at his desk.

To Cole:  _hey geek_

As she waited for a reply, Shaw scanned the surrounding buildings. Nothing suspicious in her opinion.

Cole: _You're so charming_

To Cole:  _can i come over? finch is being annoying again. and don't even say anything about how he's god._

Cole:  _:P Fine. Take the window please, my mom is sleeping._

To Cole:  _be there soon_

She pressed her earpiece. "Hey, Finch. Can't you go all techno and access his webcam?"

"Already have."

Shaw grinned. "Give me some intel."

"Michael Cole. Son of Brandon and Janet. His father died when Mr. Cole was ten in a car accident. His mother owns the electronics store and got her masters degree in computer engineering. Mr. Cole most likely learned his coding skills from her. Straight A student, gets along with others though keeps to himself."

"Sounds about right," Shaw mused. "Nothing I didn't know already. Except that about the car accident. I didn't know that's how he died. Cole never really talks about him."

"Perhaps for a good reason relevant to this situation," Shaw heard Finch say over the line. 

Shaw shrugged. "Or it's sad for him."

"Yes," Finch conceded.

"I'm heading in," Shaw said, and walked to the side of Cole's house. She had entered his house via window several times, as Cole's mom had a sleeping problem and Cole never wanted Shaw coming in the normal way through the shop and making lots of noise. Shaw had argued with him that she can be very quiet when necessary, but he didn't want to take the risk.

The building was old brick, and Shaw was dexterous enough to climb the walls without a rope even if her fingers cramped. She finally reached the window and tumbled inside, doing a somersault and landing quietly on her feet.

"I will never get over you doing that," Cole said, smiling.

Shaw gave him the bird, then went over to sit on his bed.

"I'm serious. You're like some kind of ninja."

"We all have our strengths."

Cole leaned back in his chair. "So what happened with Finch?"

Shaw sighed. "I told him I told you. And he freaked out in a very Finchy way."

"You realize I can hear you," Finch said in Shaw's earpiece.

Shaw ignored him.

"Sorry, Sam. It's so cool though. And I'm totally down to help," Cole said brightly.

"I know you wouldn't tell anyone, but I gotta ask just in case."

"Of course not!" Cole exclaimed. "I would never do that to you. You're my best friend."

Shaw looked away. "Yeah, that's what I figured. Finch just made me check 'cause he's super paranoid." Shaw could almost hear Finch's look of annoyance. She took out her phone and pretended to text someone, and bluejacked Cole and his mother's phones. She had no idea how to get onto Cole's hard drive, or if it was even necessary. 

"You know it's pretty late. You can stay over if you want. I'll take the couch, obviously." 

Shaw looked up at Cole, who blushed and averted his gaze. 

Finch spoke over the comms. "I think that's a good idea. Keep an eye on things."

Shaw nodded. "I'll just text Finch and tell him."

Cole smiled. He got up and rummaged through his drawers. "Here's a t-shirt and some shorts. They're probably big on you. Since you're the size of a ten-year-old."

Shaw glared at him and pushed his shoulder. He chuckled and left the room so she could change.

Shaw put on the clothes quickly, the fabric turning into a short dress. She stashed her guns and the cameras under his bed, then sat down at Cole's computer. "What do I do? Do you even need the stuff on his computer?"

Finch babbled out a string of instructions and Shaw followed them, not understanding anything she was doing. She finished just as Cole knocked lightly on the door.

She exited out of the program and swiveled in the chair. "Yeah?"

His head poked through the doorway. "You look so good in that Star Trek shirt."

"Fuck off."

"You know where everything is, if you need it. Goodnight, Sam."

Shaw smiled. "Thanks. Night."

The door shut and Shaw turned off the light and got into Cole's bed. "Find anything, Finch?"

"Nothing except evidence of how truly gifted Mr. Cole is at coding."

"Well, I don't see a threat yet. I'll leave the comms on, but I'm going to sleep."

"Please plug your phone in then. I'm sure Mr. Cole has a plethora of USB cables."

Shaw grumbled but flicked the lamp light on and found a phone charger. She plugged it in. 

"There you go. Night."

"Goodnight, Ms. Shaw."

 

 

 


End file.
